Kate Beckett's Diary
by cacorn158
Summary: Dr Burke suggested to Kate that, as she found it difficult to express her innermost thoughts and feelings, she should keep a diary. Reluctantly she did just that and quickly found it remarkably theraputic. Season 4 seen through Kate's eyes.
1. 1 Knockout and Rise (Part1)

**This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic so I do hope you'll all be kind to me. **

**This is in the form of Kate Beckett's diary of events after her shooting, a diary suggested by her therapist to help her express her feelings.**

**Please note, I do not own any of these characters: that honour belongs to people much better than me!**

Chapter 1 Knockout & Rise (Part 1)

_Kate Beckett arrived home and collapsed onto the sofa. Well, she'd passed her psych. evaluation. Dr Burke thought that she was fit for duty, but was she? That still nagged at her, seeped into her thoughts every so often. Was she really ready? It had been three months since Roy Montgomery's funeral; three months since the bullet thudded into her chest; three months since her life slipped away several times on the way to and in the hospital; three months since Castle said those words. Was she really ready to go back to the precinct; ready for life to return to normal?_

_She picked up the notebook she'd bought on the way home. Why the hell did Dr Burke suggest this? It didn't really sound like a suggestion, mind you, more like an order._

_"Try keeping a diary, Kate," he'd said._

_"You say you find it difficult to vocalise your feelings, well write them down instead. Not for anyone else to read, just as an outlet. But above all, Kate, if you do this, you must be honest. You must be honest with yourself even if you can't be honest with anyone else."_

_That was easy for him to say. When you've spent the last twelve years shutting your true feelings away behind a wall, writing them down doesn't exactly feel like a simple thing to do. But Kate was not a coward. She didn't look for an easy way out, so here she was, notebook and pen in hand ready to start._

_"Where the hell do I begin?" she thought to herself,_

_"Well, one thing's for sure, I'm not starting with 'Dear Diary', makes me sound like a high school kid!" and she allowed herself a smile at that._

_"Okay, here goes nothing!"_

I guess I need to start this at Roy's funeral. We met up at the 12th, Espo, Ryan, Castle & me. Three of us in our dress uniforms, Castle in a very smart suit. God he looked good. I can't help it, I'm being honest here, getting the feelings out, so it may have been a funeral, but the guy looked amazing! At the cemetery, the four of us were among the pall bearers and that walk, carrying Roy's casket, had to be one of the hardest things I've had to do for many years, well, twelve to be precise. It brought back so many memories. Memories of Roy, my mentor, my defender on many occasions but above all else, my friend but also memories of my mother and her funeral, another well-attended event, where I held my dad's hand and stared resolutely into the distance, focusing on anything and everything except the coffin and the grave. My dad was at Roy's funeral, too. He'd met him on many occasions and I knew he was mourning a friend but I also knew he was there for my sake, to support me as best he could and I appreciated it so much. I guess I should tell him that!

Evelyn Montgomery had asked me to say a few words. As I stood at the podium, Castle was nearby, close enough to show me his support but just far enough away as not to be a distraction. As I recalled Roy's words about being fortunate enough to have someone to stand with you, I glanced across at Castle and saw, in his eyes, his acknowledgement that he intended to be just that for me and I was grateful.

That was when all hell broke loose.

I was aware of Castle shouting something and wondered what on earth he was doing in the middle of my eulogy. Then I was on the floor, Castle nearly on top of me and I think it was only at that point that I suddenly became aware that my chest was on fire. I was in so much pain and had absolutely no idea why. Castle was cradling my head and pleading with me not to leave him, so much emotion in his eyes. I tried so hard to tell him I had no intention of going anywhere but it was getting harder and harder to focus, harder to concentrate. Then he said it:

"I love you. I love you, Kate"

I think I'd known for a while that he cared very deeply for me, but this was Richard Castle, playboy of the western world and although there'd been more and more occasions recently when I'd been seriously tempted to find out, I'd always held back; well, except for that time in LA when I had given in, but the universe obviously had other ideas!

If you're going to die, I guess there are worse last words to hear and as I drifted in and out of consciousness, I tried desperately to use his words as a sort of lifeline but I knew I was weakening and it all just became too hard; giving in seemed so much easier.

After that, apart from a few flashes, everything is pretty much a blank until I was in a hospital bed aware of a hand holding mine, a voice speaking very quietly but urging me to wake up. I'm sure I must have tried to speak but it's probably as well I didn't because I'm sure my first word would have been, "Castle" and, as the person holding my hand turned out to be Josh, maybe the universe was working in my favour for once!

Over the next few days, as I recovered from the surgery, my dad was the only visitor I was allowed, apart from Josh, of course, but as he was a surgeon at the hospital, I suppose he took advantage of that privileged position. Finally, I was told I could have other visitors and I begged my dad to call Castle. I had no idea what I was going to say to him, no idea what my reaction would be when I saw him. I just needed him there, needed to see him. Josh was sitting talking to me about something and nothing, I don't think I was listening, to be honest (wow, I really am being honest here!) when the door opened and that familiar, ruggedly handsome face appeared. He looked unusually unsure, hesitant even as Josh stood, gave me a peck on the forehead and said he'd be back after rounds. I wasn't too sure what the look that passed between them at the door was all about but it certainly didn't look friendly, although I suppose that shouldn't surprise me, Josh had always been wary of my relationship with Castle, a little jealous even, though I'd told him time and time again that we were just partners but who was I trying to kid, I knew that our relationship was far more complicated than that.

Castle stood there staring at me, carrying an enormous bouquet of flowers. The look on his face was so intense, I thought I must look at death's door, which of course I had been only a few days earlier, but I had thought my look had improved a bit since he'd last seen me. Well, maybe not. He put the flowers on the side with all the other arrangements, mostly from colleagues and friends at the 12th and I tried to joke about never being able to live this down, tried to get back to the banter usually so easy between us but at the look on his face, so much care, so much devotion, suddenly I ran scared, I know I did. I did what I always do when things get emotional, tried to hide behind my wall and I lied:

"I hear you tried to save me."

He didn't catch my meaning immediately but it didn't take long and I could see the sadness suddenly appear in his wonderful, blue eyes and he looked as though he'd been punched in the gut.

"You heard? You don't remember me tackling you?"

Now I'd started down that path, I had no choice but to carry on. I convinced myself it was for the best, that I wasn't able to deal with my feelings right now, but it didn't make it any easier, didn't make it any more right. At his next words, I forced myself to look him straight in the eye, almost challenging him to say it again,

"So you don't remember m..." he paused, but then continued with,

"...the gunshot?" I could almost see his heart breaking in front of my eyes but I was too far along the road to turn back now.

"They say there are some things that are better not being remembered."

By saying that, I thought maybe I could give him a way out; an option to pretend the words were never spoken, but I knew I'd never forget. I never wanted to forget. Richard Castle loved me. Why couldn't I just accept it and deal with it, but I'd crossed the bridge now. Maybe I'll be able to tell him the truth one day, who knows?

I told him a little more about my dreams, nightmares rather; the hanger, Roy's death, my not being able to save him. I could see Castle wanted to say more but I couldn't face anything else and, as I was stuck in the hospital bed so running away wasn't an option, I found the only escape I could, a plea of tiredness. Well I was pretty tired but it made for a great excuse. God, I sound so pitiful when I'm putting it in writing like this!

Then I committed my second major snafu. I pushed him away. Told him I'd call.

That was all three months ago.

I've never called.

_Kate put the notebook down. She hadn't been aware of it, but she'd been crying as she was writing and now she'd stopped, she rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand and tried to compose herself. Was this such a good idea? Actually, maybe it was. She did feel a little better, a little less weighed down. She looked at her watch, amazed to discover just how late it was. She'd been at this for hours and was due back at the precinct tomorrow morning._

_Kate locked the notebook away in the drawer of her desk, turned out the light and headed to her bedroom. Tomorrow was a new day, maybe even the start of a second chance for her; maybe a chance to start undoing some of her long catalogue of errors._


	2. 2 Knockout and Rise (Part 2)

**Thank you so much to all of you who have reviewed, favorited and now follow this story. I never realised just what a buzz I'd get from it!**

**Anyway, here's the next chapter. Hope you continue to enjoy it.  
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**Disclaimer: Castle belongs to ABC, Andrew Marlowe and all the other cast & crew who bring us this wonderful experience every week!  
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Chapter 2

Knockout and Rise (Part 2)

_For many years Kate had not been a good sleeper but tonight it seemed so much worse. Her mind just wouldn't let go of the memories._

That's what happens when you begin a story but stop halfway through, I guess,_ she thought to herself._

_After tossing and turning for a few more minutes, she decided that the only way she would be fit to return to work the following day would be if she completed the diary. It was a warm night so she didn't bother putting on her robe, but chose, instead, to pad into the living room in her t-shirt & shorts. She recovered the notebook from the drawer, curled up on the sofa and began to write again._

I spent about a month in hospital. Dad visited every day. Josh would turn up several times a day even though I asked him not to; I really couldn't deal with him. Other than that, no-one. Of course, my friends from the precinct, Ryan, Esposito and Lanie all wanted to come but, although I spoke to Lanie a time or two on the phone, I pushed them all away. This was not proving to be my finest hour, I can see that now, but at the time, it seemed so obviously the right thing to do. Dad tried to change my mind but, not for the first time in my life, I was being stubborn. He said how much I reminded him of my mom when I was being like that which did at least make me smile; she could be really stubborn at times. I remember when I was in my final year at high school, trying to decide what I was going to do with my life and I got the idea that travelling the country by motorbike was the height of my ambition; she really lost it with me then; I don't think we spoke for a week. Poor dad didn't know where to put himself until, eventually, he locked us both in the kitchen and told us to come out when we'd sorted our differences and not before! Once we actually started talking it through, it didn't take us long to come to our senses. Dad didn't even need to spend one night in the hotel room he'd reserved for a week, just in case!

The day before I left hospital, I finally had it out with Josh. He'd appeared at my bedside, yet again but now I was feeling a little stronger, I decided enough was enough.

"Why are you here, Josh?" I asked, trying to keep my voice down and my temper in check.

He seemed genuinely puzzled by the question.

"What do you mean, Kate? Where else would I be on my break? You're my girlfriend; you're in hospital; I work here; why wouldn't I come to visit every chance I get?"

"Maybe because I've asked you not to?" I replied, not looking him in the eye but becoming rather irritated.

"What's all this about, Kate?"

"I've told you not to come but what do you do? You just keep coming. Sitting there day after day, trying to get me to talk about everything I'm trying to get distance from. When I want to talk about it, Josh, I will, but not until I'm ready."

I could tell that he was beginning to lose his temper now, too,

"You may not want to talk about it. Kate, but you need to talk about it; about everything that's happened to you. The more you bottle it up, the harder it's going to be to recover from this. You need to talk and I'm here. You don't want to bother your dad with it, so I'm all you've got left. Your friends don't come. That partner of yours doesn't even show. I would have thought we'd have to prise him from your bedside but no. Anyway, it's just as well he doesn't show his face as this is his fault."

"What do you mean by that?"

"If he hadn't put his nose where it didn't belong and started looking into your mother's murder, re-opening old wounds, you wouldn't be lying here now!"

He almost spat these last words at me and I could see just how much he resented Castle's presence in my life.

"Enough, Josh!" I yelled at him, "That's enough! This," I said, pointing to the bullet wound in my chest," Is not Castle's fault and my friends have stayed away because I asked them to. Castle's stayed away because I asked him to. They've all respected my wishes. The only person who doesn't seem to think enough of me to respect them is you, Josh. You!"

"But, Kate, I..."

I didn't give him chance to make any excuses,

"Go away, Josh! Whatever we had, it's over. You were never there when I needed you, always off on your Doctors Without Borders missions and now, when I don't want you here, where are you? Right here every day. We're done, Josh. Please leave."

He gazed at me for a moment then turned away, heading for the door. Just before he left the room, he looked back at me and I could see the pain in his eyes,

"I'm sorry, Kate."

Looking back on it now, recalling it all, writing it down, god, I was such a bitch! Josh didn't deserve any of that. I liked him, I really did. Okay, he was away a lot and worked long hours but relationships work both ways and I guess I wasn't there for him on many occasions, either. My hours aren't exactly regular. I think I really lost it with him when he started on Castle, a man who had done absolutely nothing wrong except, perhaps, fall in love with me. I'm damaged goods and just don't deserve the love of such a good man. Although Josh deserved better than my somewhat callous breakup speech, I do know that I'm better off without him and I'm certain he's better off without me so I suppose the end justifies the means? No, it doesn't. That's bull, Kate!

After I left hospital, I got my dad to take me up to his cabin. It was a place I'd always loved and it held so many happy memories from my childhood. Dad likes to go up there for some peace and quiet, to get away from the city but I hadn't been there for quite a while, always too busy. Anyway, now I had time on my hands, it seemed just the place to be. Dad made sure I had all I needed and then left me there, promising to return every few days with fresh supplies. I had to return to the city for the occasional check-up at the hospital and appointments with my new physical therapist but for the most part, it was just me and the crickets.

What did I do with my time? What do you think I did? I read. What did I read? I ask again, what do you think I read? Every one of Castle's books, of course; right through the Derrick Storm series and then onto Nikki Heat. His books had saved my sanity once before and they managed it again. The fantasy world of the Storm books, good triumphing over evil every time, always made me feel more positive, more confident about the future. The Nikki Heat books, on the other hand, were more personal; the dedications, the acknowledgements, the characters, the events all so recognisable, so real. Then of course there was Heat and Rook, the infamous page 105. Was that really a writer using his imagination or was it more a case of a man living out his fantasy in the pages of a book? If the latter was true, I could appreciate it because I confess to having the same fantasy on more than one occasion. Heat and Rook, Beckett and Castle, the images have a tendency to mingle in my dreams! I may not have spoken to Castle for three months, but there was never a day went by during that time when he wasn't there, front and centre in my thoughts.

Eventually, after two months, I returned to my apartment in the city and here I am, fully fit (well, near enough to keep NYPD happy!), passed my psych. evaluation and ready to return to work tomorrow.

_Kate checked the time, two twenty, locked the notebook away again and returned to her bed. She figured she had time for enough sleep before work. She didn't need much, functioned as well with or without it. This time she drifted off as soon as her head hit the pillow and for the first time in a very long time, the nightmares stayed away._


	3. 3 Knockout and Rise (Part 3)

**Thanks again for all the reviews, follows and favourites. Glad you seem to be enjoying the ridealong with Kate.**

**Disclaimer: Castle belongs to ABC and the wonderful Andrew Marlowe, sadly not to me!  
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**As it's weekend, I've decided to post 2 chapters today.**

**Here we go with Chapter 3. Enjoy!**

Chapter 3

Knockout and Rise (Part3)

_The next few days went by so quickly for Kate. Adjusting to work had proved far more difficult than she'd expected and she'd found herself, more than once, completely emotionally overwhelmed. Finally, once the Sonya Gilbert case was resolved, she'd decided to pay another visit to Dr__.__ Burke. He asked her if she'd taken his advice about writing down thoughts and feelings. When she confirmed that she had and that it seemed to have helped a little, he suggested that it may be a good idea to continue. So it was that she, once again, removed the notebook from the locked drawer, poured herself a glass of wine and settled down to try and put into words the turmoil of the last few days. _

I paused as I got off the elevator, fingered my mother's ring on its chain and looked around the bullpen. I still wasn't sure I was ready for this but I knew I had to get back to work because sitting at home with nothing to do but think was driving me quietly nuts! My eyes were drawn towards my desk but more so to the empty chair at the side, Castle's chair. Where was he? What was he doing right now? I was drawn back to reality by applause. What the hell? Then I realised that the entire bullpen had stopped and were watching me, smiles on faces, happy to see a colleague returned to them. I suppose I found it a little embarrassing. What had I done anyway? I'd managed not to die after being shot, nothing exactly heroic about that. I managed a slight smile and made my way, through the welcoming greetings, to the haven of my desk. The boys, Ryan and Esposito, were the next to greet me: Espo cracking a joke as always, Ryan, just as welcoming but quieter in his manner.

Once the welcome was out of the way, I needed to know how the case was going. I was eager to get my teeth into the investigation but it turns out, it was going nowhere. They'd managed to get a few leads but everything had turned out to be a dead-end. They couldn't quite believe I hadn't spoken to Castle about it but it was my turn to be amazed when they told me Castle had been there working the case with them, day after day, week after week. I guess I'd assumed that, when I wasn't there, Castle wouldn't be there either but as I think about it now, I shouldn't have been surprised. He may not be a cop but he has cop instincts and I know, if the situation had been reversed, there was no way in hell I wouldn't have been moving Heaven and Earth, trying to get answers.

"I love you, Kate"

Where else would he be?

Until he was kicked out! Kicked out by the new captain. Captain Victoria "Call-Me-Sir" Gates. I hadn't even met the woman at that point and I was already starting to hate her. She'd kicked out my partner and shut down my case. When I went in to see her, to introduce myself to my new boss, I was already seething but managed to put on my poker face as I entered her office. I got the distinct impression that the dislike was going to be mutual. First it's the, "Don't call me ma'am, call me sir" speech: then, I evidently beat her by six weeks to the detective shield. Why on earth did she even know that? She did manage to welcome me back after scanning the report from Dr. Burke and gave me back my badge but then had the nerve to tell me I had to re-qualify to get my gun. I mean, I suppose I did know I'd have to do that but, as Esposito said later, it was rather insulting. Then I brought up my case and I think my brain must have completely fogged up because I cannot believe what I said; it must have sounded so arrogant but she'd wound me up that much: as I said, I suspect I wasn't thinking straight when I implied that I was better than the people who'd been working the case. I didn't really mean it like that; it just came out that way. I think what I meant was that I had more incentive to solve the case; after all, I was the one bearing the scars. I don't think, in the end, either of us did too well in the first impressions department!

Ryan told me that if I wanted to look at the information about the bank files they'd managed to compile then I'd have to see Castle because he was holding it to keep it out of Gates' reach. I knew I was going to have to face him sooner or later but I hadn't expected it to be quite this soon. I'd told him I would call but never did. He was entitled to be angry, hurt, bitter; all the afore-mentioned. What would I say? I wished, at that moment, that I was the writer, the wordsmith, then I might just have some idea how to approach this; but I'm not, I'm a cop and I was as nervous as hell.

He was doing a book-signing and so, for the second time in my life, I stood for hours in line with a host of young women all so very eager to meet the ruggedly handsome author, Richard Castle. That had been me once but now, now I was standing there to meet the man who had said he loved me, the man I was lying to, the man I'd ignored for three months. As I got closer to the front of the queue, I could see him. He looked as good as ever, my heart quickened at the sight of him, but I knew him too well, he looked so sad, haunted even, and the thought that it was my fault was almost too much to bear. I very nearly turned and ran but, although that's my default setting, I stayed because I knew I needed to face this, I needed to face him.

"Kate. You can make it out to Kate."

He'd taken the book without looking up but as soon as I spoke, he lifted his eyes with a slight smile then instantly recognition dawned and the smile disappeared to be replaced by a cold, angry stare. It was as if a knife had been thrust into my heart and twisted for good measure. He had a job to do and I knew words would have to wait until later so I left, clutching my newly-signed copy of Heat Rises.

I had to wait outside that bookshop for another hour before the book-signing was finally over and Castle emerged, making a point of thanking the staff in his usual gracious fashion. He saw me leaning against the wall and walked straight past. If I thought my heart was breaking before, it was falling to pieces now. I really feared he wasn't even going to give me a chance to speak. I called after him, desperate for him to just give me an opportunity to try to explain. Thankfully, he stopped and turned to face me. I thought,

"Well, now's your chance, Kate. You cannot blow this."

Looking back on the conversation now, I realise he very nearly said he loved me again but hastily covered his error. I was quite surprised when Josh's name cropped up but strangely enough, that seemed to be a turning point, when I told him we'd broken up. I took a risk, then, turned and crossed the road to a small park. I hoped he'd follow and, sure enough, he joined me on the swing-set. We began to talk, very tentatively, about his book. The conversation was awkward, so different from our usual easy banter. He asked about Josh and then it all began to come out. For the first time in my life, I opened up to someone about the wall I'd built inside after my mother's death and I hoped he understood what I was trying to tell him.

"I know I'm not going to be able to be the kind of person that I wanna be, I know I'm not gonna,"

At this point, I paused, unsure whether to carry on that thought but I knew I had to; I had to try to let this wonderful man know how much he means to me:

"Gonna be able to have the kind of relationship I want,"

"With you," were the words I really wanted to say but I managed to omit those particular ones, relying on subtext as always,

"Until that wall comes down. And it's not gonna to happen 'til I put this thing to rest."

The ball was now in Castle's court. The silence seemed to go on forever. I was praying and silently imploring him to understand. My heart was now on the line. I'd just said that I'd built my wall to avoid having to face the pain of loss again but I knew at that moment that if Castle walked away, my heart would break, that the wall seemed to be no defence against this man.

He'd been gazing at me but then looked away as he said,

"Then I suppose we're just gonna have to find these guys and take 'em down."

The breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding finally escaped and I was able to manage a slight smile as he added,

"Doesn't mean I'm not still mad."

I could accept that; he had every right to be.

We went on to chat about the case and he told me about the warehouse fire which destroyed the old bank records. It seemed rather suspect to me, far too much of a coincidence and finally looked like a new direction. Hope stirred in my brain. Now I needed my partner back; and I knew just how to do it; teasing him was my speciality after all.

"How're you gonna help if Gates kicked you out?" I asked innocently.

Sure enough, cocky Castle made a re-appearance,

"I only let her kick me out because there was no reason to stay. She'll take me back."

_So much more had happened over the last few days but it was getting late. Kate was fairly sure she would sleep well tonight, she was exhausted after all and the glass, or was that glasses, of wine should also help. The notebook was safely locked away but Kate decided that she would have a relaxing bath before retiring to bed. As she was soaking, she picked up her copy of Heat Rises and turned to the last few pages, the pages that she'd read many times already, the pages that mirrored real life so closely and gave her more than a slight insight into Castle's feelings about her shooting. She wiped away her tears before getting out of the tub, drying off and getting ready for bed. That night, she dreamt about a ruggedly handsome author and an emotionally damaged detective taking page 105 to its natural conclusion._


	4. 4 Knockout and Rise (Part 4)

**Here's the second chapter for the day. Hope you're all continuing to enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: As ever, I do not own Castle.**

Chapter 4

Knockout and Rise (Part 4)

_The following day, Kate was at the precinct all morning, finishing off the paperwork for the Sonya Gilbert case but by lunchtime that was all done. As there were no new cases at the moment, Captain Gates told her to go home and spend the afternoon relaxing rather than sitting at her desk, waiting for the next body to drop; she had, after all, only just returned from three months sick leave. Although rather surprised by Gates' generosity, Kate jumped at the opportunity whilst promising to stay available if needed. As today was a paperwork day, needless to say, Castle was nowhere to be seen and, as she'd found herself staring at his empty chair one too many times, she felt home was definitely where she wanted to be._

_After a quick lunch, Kate decided to carry on with the diary. She removed it from the drawer and read through the words she'd penned so far. She found it difficult to believe just how honest she'd been; it really wasn't like her, but it was helping. Another thing she found hard to comprehend was just how much she'd already written,_

"_I guess being honest takes a lot of words," she thought to herself, as she wondered just how much longer it was going to take to explain the last few days._

"She'll take me back," and as soon as he said it, he pulled his phone out. I knew exactly what was coming next and inwardly cringed at the thought of Captain Gates' reaction.

"Castle, do you really think it's a good idea to call the mayor? Gates'll have a fit!"

He just gave me that Castle grin,

"Mayor Wheldon, please, it's Richard Castle," he said into his phone and then to me,

"Don't worry, Beckett, I know what I'm doing."

At times he can be just so cocky but, though I hate to admit it, I do rather like cocky Castle, not all the time, I hasten to add, but just occasionally!

When we got back to the 12th, we went straight to Captain Gates' office where she was in the middle of a phone call and it didn't take a genius to figure out who was on the other end. However, despite the Captain's obvious displeasure, it appeared Castle's ploy had, indeed, worked and, although threatened with prosecution to the fullest extent of the law if he screwed up, he was back on the team. I was so happy; it was hard not to grin. I think Gates saw my lips twitch because it was my turn to feel the wrath as she promised to bury me if either Castle, my pal, as she described him after a slight hesitation, unsure of his standing, I suppose, or I embarrassed her again. I was quite happy to take it, though; I'd got my partner back. Now all I needed was my gun and I took great delight in presenting the results of my recent requalification; quite impressive results, if I do say so myself!

Ryan brought us up to date with Sonya Gilbert's case; a case of love gone wrong, it appeared. I cringed when told about Dale Landers, Sonya's boyfriend and only suspect in her murder.

"He was in love, she wanted out," Ryan said.

To me, that was a little too close for comfort. I know Castle wants in but what do I want? I certainly don't want out but can I, for one second, even contemplate the possibility of wanting in? Not at the moment, no. But in the future, if I can move on, tear down that wall, heal, yes, I think could very well want in. Wow, did I really just think that? I guess I must have done as it's there in black and white. A future relationship with Castle; why does my heart beat a little faster at that thought? God, I need a drink! Damn it, I'm on call. Come on, Kate, get back on track. Stop writing random thoughts.

Espo had pulled the file on the warehouse fire to discover it had occurred only three weeks after my mom's murder. That was not a coincidence, it couldn't be. The fire was declared to be accidental but, come off it, three weeks later. Accident, my ass! Unfortunately, before I could go to talk to Rod Halstead, the lead investigator, we were sent to pick up Landers, who'd been spotted going into his band's rehearsal room. That's when things began to go pear-shaped for me.

I couldn't believe it when we got to the building and Espo wanted to know if I was ready like I was a rookie on my first take-down. Having accepted my response, he still insisted that he and Ryan took point. I was still put out, but didn't have much choice in the matter, really. As it turned out, he was right to be concerned. We'd announced ourselves and charged into the room when I spotted Landers heading out the back. Ryan and Esposito were busy securing the scene so I ran after him. He tried to get out the back door but it must have been locked or jammed or something because the next thing I knew, I was staring down the barrel of a revolver. I started to raise my gun but froze. There's no other word for it, I, Kate Beckett, experienced NYPD homicide detective, froze. All I could see was the gun. The fact that Dale was terrified, his hand shaking even more than mine was, never registered. I must have looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a truck. Fortunately for me, as soon as Ryan and Esposito appeared and yelled for him to stand down, he put the gun down and hit the deck with no resistance whatsoever. I hoped to God no-one had seen my reaction. Everything that happened in the cemetery seemed to flash before my eyes. My chest burned. I was gasping for every breath. I managed to drag myself back to the present but my hands were shaking so much I really struggled to put my gun back in the holster. What the hell had just happened? I was supposed to be okay. Well, I'd had my doubts, hadn't I and I'd just proved myself to be right.

When we got back to the precinct any hope I had that no-one had noticed my performance was shot to pieces because, of course, Castle had noticed. Why should I be surprised? He always has noticed every little detail, especially where I was concerned. Many times, it's sweet but there in the observation room, I was just plain embarrassed. I tried to cover it up with bravado, only second day back, won't happen again and all that crap but I don't suppose for a minute that he didn't see right through my act. He can read me like a book.

Castle and I went to see Rod Halstead from there. I was so sure he could give me the information I needed. He was very helpful at the beginning of the interview, remembered the case, was sure it was an accident; no, the report hadn't been altered. But I was sure he was lying, he had to be lying; I still believe he was lying and I, right there and then, in his own station house, accused him of being a part of the cover-up. Basically, I lost it. Castle had to virtually drag my ass out of there. No, I'm definitely not okay! But I'm nothing, if not persistent. I called Esposito and had him pull everything he could on Halstead and send it to my place because I did not want Gates sticking her nose into this.

Castle came round to go over Halstead's file with me. He couldn't see anything to suggest the guy was dirty. He had no connections to anyone in the case. But he had to be dirty, otherwise it was just another dead end and I still had nothing to go on. With that thought, the slight thread of control I had just snapped. Castle looked at me with so much concern, so much love, but I was too far gone to acknowledge it. I did see it, though. Now I can acknowledge it, at least, here, to myself. I've pushed him away, hidden from him for three months but he still cares. God, what have I ever done to deserve him, nothing, and yet there he is.

Needless to say I didn't sleep much that night, when do I ever, but although I kept going over and over everything in my head, I still had nothing. Next day Castle brought my coffee as usual but I could tell from the look on his face that he wasn't going to let my outburst the previous evening go without comment. I tried to brush him off with my 'go to' catchphrase of "I'm fine," but he wasn't buying it. Can't say I blame him. He wants me to back off until I've got my bearings again but I don't know how to do that. He says I shouldn't let those who want me dead rob me of my life, but what is my life if I don't do this, if I don't try to find this justice I've been searching for all these years? He says we'll find them and make them pay, just not today. I took note of the fact that he said we, of the heartfelt sincerity with which he laced every word of what I suspect was a carefully rehearsed speech and of the look in his eyes, those gorgeous eyes (oh, God, I'm off again!). Maybe he's right, maybe I should back off for a while, concentrate on bringing justice and peace to families like Sonya Gilbert's.

I started to look at the Gilbert case again, with rather more enthusiasm this time and it wasn't too long before we were able to figure that the killer was in fact Dale's band mate, Mitch Yancey. We headed back to the band's rehearsal room. Ryan and Esposito went to search the premises leaving Castle and I in the main room. Castle, full of his usual concern for my well-being, checked if I was okay but, just as I was replying in the affirmative, Yancey appeared behind me, yelling for me to put my gun down. I turned and there I was again, face to face with a weapon, a shotgun this time, in the hands of another terrified individual. This time, though, I had managed to raise my gun and at least look like a cop in control. He was still yelling and wanting me just to let him go. I was struggling to maintain my outward composure but managed to stutteringly shout for him not to move. Yancey was still talking and I was trying so hard to maintain a semblance of authority when I heard Castle's voice behind me, so quiet, so composed,

"Take it easy, Kate. Take it easy. You've got this."

The still small voice of calm.

"You've got this."

And just like that, Detective Kate Beckett was back. I was calm and allowed my training to replace my fear. As soon as I'd managed that, the situation was back firmly in my hands. I talked Mitch down, his weapon was on the ground and I was cuffing him, while reading him his rights. I think I may just have let out a sigh of relief; I certainly felt like doing, anyway. I may not be back to my normal self yet but at least I think I can do my job. I hope I can because if not what the hell use am I?

As we wrapped the case up back at the precinct, Castle asked me how I was feeling and for once I answered him honestly,

"It's not enough. But it's enough for now."

He seemed satisfied with that.

"Thank you," I continued, "For having my back in there."

He smiled, gave a little shrug and replied,

"That's what partners are for."

I don't quite know what to think about that. I suppose I expected him to give his normal response, always; the word that seemed to carry a lot of weight between us; seemed to say so much more. But he didn't. Actually, it hurts a little and makes me wonder if maybe I've done too much damage to our relationship. Maybe he doesn't care for me now. Maybe he doesn't love me anymore, if he ever really did. Maybe it was just because he thought I was dying in that cemetery.

Once the case was over, I went for another session with Dr. Burke and discovered that writing this diary has made a difference already because I told him the truth. I told him I remembered.

"_That took a while," Kate said to herself but she somehow felt better for reliving the last couple of days. She looked at her dad's watch, that constant reminder of the life saved, as she called it, and was surprised to see that it was now well past dinnertime and she was actually feeling hungry. She decided to heat up some leftovers she had in the fridge and as she waited for the microwave to finish, she pondered the words she'd just been writing. What was she going to do about Castle? What did she want to do?_

_She loved him, she knew that but she also knew that there was no way she was ready to do anything with that knowledge yet but she certainly did not want to lose him, either. That was the problem now and if there was one thing Kate Beckett was good at, it was solving problems. She just had to put her mind to it that was all. The microwave pinged, telling her dinner was ready. She took the container out and, not bothering with a plate, took it over to the sofa, sat down and set about figuring out how to solve 'The Castle Problem'._


	5. 5 Heroes and Demons

**There seem to have been a few problems seeing uploaded pages over the last 24 hours or so but I hope you've been able to read chapters 3 & 4 now which took the story to the end of Rise.**

**Now we move on to the rest of the season. Hope you continue to enjoy Kate's thoughts!**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing about Castle belongs to me.**

Chapter 5

Heroes and Villains

_It had been a couple of weeks since Kate had last written in her diary. She knew Dr Burke had said to keep it a regular exercise but frankly, nothing much had happened, which in itself was, of course, a good thing. Then, this last case, talk about right up Castle's street. As she recalled the last few days, she knew she had to get it all down in the diary because, in amongst the superheroes and samurai swords, some things had struck her a little too close to home._

Who would have thought that a body, literally sliced in two, could start me feeling as though maybe there's a chance that I could get past all this. It has done, though, because I find myself suddenly beginning to look forward rather than always dwelling on what's already gone.

Relationships are an integral part of my job. I'm always having to explore why this person was murdered, what drove that person to do what they did, where were the people who could have prevented the tragedy and Tyler Faris's killing showed a whole range of relationships to me.

The body was discovered in an alley behind a bar. I'd called Castle and we arrived near the scene at the same time. I could tell straight away that he was distracted and wanted to get something off his chest. As it turned out, he was worried about Alexis. Richard Castle, public figure, famous author, playboy extraordinaire is not the man I see every day at the precinct. The man I see is Richard Castle, family man, good friend and amazing partner: this is the man I know, the man I – yes, okay, I'll admit it here – the man I've fallen in love with; and Richard Castle, father, is the best of the lot! He was concerned because Alexis had decided to apply to Stanford for spring admission and, as a father, was not sure that she was making her decisions for the right reasons and was also suffering from the realisation that his little girl was growing up. Over the years we've known each other, I've always been amazed and somewhat humbled by the fact that Castle has willingly sought my advice about Alexis and this was another of those moments.

This was also one of those times when I felt I was actually able to speak from a certain amount of experience. I'd always had a good relationship with my parents, don't get me wrong, but mom and I would often clash about stupid things but one of the most serious arguments we ever had was over me going to Stanford. She wanted me to stay east, I was desperate to head west and the more she said, the more I dug my heels in. When I finally set off, we'd barely spoken for weeks. Dad had tried to get us to sort it out but we were both just too stubborn to let it go. I came home for Christmas after my first semester and we finally talked it out, yelled, cried, hugged, all of that, but we managed to put the disagreement behind us. Just as well, because in the New Year – well, I don't need to go into that here.

My advice to Castle, based on personal experience, let her make her own decision because if you try to hold on, she'll just pull away. I really hope he follows my advice on this one. I'd hate to see it cause a rift because there is just the two of them; I did at least have my dad to go to when mom and I fell out.

Then there was Tyler Faris's mother. Over the years, I think the hardest part of my job has been interviewing the family of victims. I always try to be as supportive as I can, try to give them as much time as they need to process the awful horror of their loss whilst obviously still needing to get as much information from them as possible to enable us to give them some sort of closure. I've seen people react in many different ways but Mrs Faris – well, that was a new one. She was just so resigned; said she'd always known Tyler would end up like that, well not exactly like that, not cleaved in two from head to – let's just say Castle cringed at the rest of Lanie's description!

As I've said, I had my moments with mom over those teenage years but even at our lowest ebb, I still never doubted for a second that, should I get into serious trouble, both she and my dad would be there in an instant doing everything they possibly could to extricate me from whatever mess I'd gotten myself into. In short, I never, ever, doubted that they loved me.

I wondered what on earth had happened in Tyler's life to cause such a complete lack of emotion from his mother. That is probably a little unfair; she did appear to be sad but far too ready to accept his death as inevitable rather than as a life cut far too short by a gross act of violence. When I asked if she knew of anyone who wanted to hurt her son, she simply suggested I would need a bigger pad!

Finally, there was Officer Ann Hastings and her writer, Paul Whittaker. We got onto Paul with information from Mrs Faris. Castle had figured out that the Lone Vengeance comics were written describing events that had already taken place and that, therefore the writer, Sean Elt, must be Lone Vengeance. It didn't take us too long, then, to work out that crime journalist, Whittaker was, in fact Sean Elt and therefore Tyler's killer. However, although that seemed to be the obvious answer and in spite of the fact that Paul confessed both to being Lone Vengeance and killing Tyler, something seemed off to both Castle and I. The words of Paul's confession were only just out of his mouth when I tripped him up with details of the crime, proving that he was not in fact the killer. Castle commented that Paul was just the writer and Lone Vengeance was the muse, just like us. Nice to think he sees me as a sword-wielding killer! Now we just had to find out why Paul was lying and who he was covering for.

We found Lone Vengeance's lair, for want of a better word, and Castle and I waited for the guy to return. Castle was rather disappointed, expecting something more akin to the Batcave than a dingy room with no furniture, until we found the sword collection; then he was more impressed. Imagine my surprise when Lone Vengeance finally returned only to be unmasked as Officer Ann Hastings, NYPD and based right there at the 12th. To say I was shocked would be a major understatement. I really just couldn't get my head around the thought that a police officer, an officer I knew, was responsible for such a gruesome crime.

We took her back to the precinct for questioning and although she readily admitted to being Lone Vengeance, she vehemently denied anything to do with Faris's death. She floored me a little by telling me how she'd always admired me and wanted to be the same kind of cop that I am and it was clear from her record that she could certainly have been that cop; I just needed to know how a cop with such a great record could possibly go so far off track. It turned out that her father had owned a dry cleaners, had been shot dead over $80 and the day after burying him, she decided to join the academy. Suddenly, I could see the parallels – didn't have to be a genius for that. Everything she was saying was a reflection of my own situation and she knew it, even called me on it. I had to maintain my composure but it was so hard. By the end of the interview, though, I was convinced that she hadn't in fact killed Tyler. She'd provided enough information for me to actually believe that there was a third person running around in a Lone Vengeance suit in addition to her and Chad Whatshisname, we'd pulled in earlier.

The case closed soon after that. We got the bad guy. Justice was served. Ann was released from custody and I had to talk to her. I needed to give her a piece of advice and maybe it wasn't just for her; I think I should listen to my own advice, too. I told her that she had someone who cared about her, after all Paul had confessed to murder, was willing to go to prison to protect her and not to be so driven by the past that she throws away her future. Wise words, Beckett, try listening to them yourself! As Ann and Paul headed into the elevator, Castle and I watched them, Castle commenting that they were a writer and his muse fighting crime, just like us. I had to agree until they fell into each other arms and a long kiss but after my initial surprise, I had to grin especially at the look on Castle's face as he realised the implication of his words. He probably wasn't aware that my thoughts were – if only!

_Kate sighed as she put the pen down and read the last few sentences again. _

"_Maybe in time," she thought, locking the diary away in the drawer and heading off for a well earned shower,_

"_Maybe in time, I'll be in a place where I can finally admit to Castle that Ann and Paul's relationship is what I want for us, too."_


	6. 6 Head Case and Kick the Ballistics

**As it's still weekend, here's another chapter. Thank you for all your kind words. I can't say just how great it is to know that people are actually enjoying this story.**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine!**

Chapter 6

Head Case & Kick the Ballistics

_It had been a really tough day but the team at the 12__th__ had finally brought the Jane Herzfeld case to a successful conclusion. Kate returned home, kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto the sofa. Although it was late, she was just too wired to even think about sleep, wasn't in the least bit hungry and just couldn't be bothered to move to run a bath. The last couple of weeks had been hard; two tough cases in quick succession. The cases had started Kate thinking again, though; maybe it was time to return to the diary. She'd been reading through the pages she'd already written the previous night when she'd been unable to sleep and it was still there on the coffee table. So, pen in hand, she cast her mind back to the last two cases and the feelings they'd stirred inside._

I hadn't seen Castle for a few days. He'd said he needed to get some writing done while we didn't have a case on the go but he'd also told me that he wanted to be around for Alexis who was waiting on a reply to her application to Stanford. As it happened, the morning I got the call about the case, was also the morning Alexis had received Stanford's response and the news wasn't good. She'd been rejected. I couldn't understand it, myself. Alexis Castle is the brightest, most intelligent and mature teenager I've ever had the pleasure to come across and to think that Stanford had turned her down, well, it just didn't seem right. Castle, of course hadn't wanted her to go to Stanford in the spring but he certainly hadn't wanted her to be rejected and apparently she was not taking the news at all well. He did suggest that as I'd got into Stanford, why on earth hadn't Alexis. Not quite sure what to make of that comment but I simply told him that I probably wouldn't get in now.

The next day Castle came in saying that Alexis, who'd been in total denial the previous day, insisting on calling Stanford Admissions to let them know they'd made a mistake, was now spinning out of control because she's never not managed to achieve something she's set her mind to. He was concerned that, in trying to give her the childhood he'd never had, he'd over-protected her which meant she wasn't able to handle rejection. I knew that this was a load of bull and told Castle so. He's given Alexis a fantastic childhood. He really is an amazing father. I suggested that we all get our hearts broken eventually and that she just needed time to find her way. Okay, I don't know Alexis all that well, but I do know Castle and with a father like that, she'll be just fine.

The case: well, that was an interesting one; a massive pool of blood in an alley but no body to go with it. What can you do when you've no body and no id? I was at a loss.

As it turned out, the case seemed more like something out of a science fiction novel; cryogenics, secret experiments to extend life, injections to reduce tumours and a porn king. Well, okay, that last one isn't anything to do with sci-fi but Beau Randolph was relevant!

I'm not going to go into great detail about the case, I write enough police reports without repeating them here but it turned out that the victim, Lester Hamilton had wanted to be cryogenically frozen after his death – which was why the body disappeared – but had discovered he had an inoperable brain tumour. He was working on the Ambrosia Project, trying to develop an implant to prolong life and because he wanted as long as possible to work on this research, he got his friend, Dr Philip Boyd, who was doing research into injections to shrink tumours, to test his theory on him. It hadn't worked (no surprise there!). Long story, short – Mrs Hamilton loved her husband so much, she killed him before the tumour ravaged his brain so they had a chance in the future and then, when we caught her, she committed suicide in holding. Crazy, right?

Castle and I had several discussions about all this. He wanted to know if I'd get implants to give me another 10 years and sounded quite enthusiastic about the idea. I have to confess, I did tease him a little, suggesting that I didn't think I needed any implants, looking down at my chest as I said it. Nothing better than teasing Castle every now and again! I must say, it did get me thinking, though. Would I want to extend my life by 10 years, live to be 100 instead of just 90? No, I don't think I would. What if it would mean I could stay as I am now for another 10 years? No chance, I don't want to stay as I am now for another year, let alone another ten. I want to get better. I want to be so much more than I am right now. If I knew I had an extra ten years, I'd probably just end up wasting them anyway, like I have the last ten.

We debated if Mrs Hamilton's crime was a crime of passion but I think it should be called a crime of love. They were stored at the Passageway facility and I have to say their story, their love, had a big impact on me. I never particularly considered myself to be a romantic, but in this case, I really do hope that maybe, just maybe, science fiction could prove to be science fact and in a hundred or even a thousand years Lester Hamilton and his wife will be able to continue their own love story. Wow, how soppy is that, Beckett? As I said to Castle, though, that's what the great love stories are all about – beating the odds but was I really talking about the Hamiltons or was I thinking closer to home. Well, I've got some major odds to beat but I hope we make it.

_Kate decided to take a break. Although it was now getting on towards midnight, she was hungry. The fridge contents didn't really appeal but after all the thoughts of cryogenics, she opened the freezer and found the perfect late-night snack, or at least, the perfect Castle late-night snack – Rocky Road. She chuckled to herself as she returned to the sofa, bowl and spoon in hand._

"_If Castle could see me now," she thought, "He'd consider me well and truly under his influence!"_

_After another moment,_

"_And who's to say he'd be wrong!"_

_She savoured the taste of the ice cream as it slipped down her throat and after she'd emptied the bowl, she returned to the diary to continue with her thoughts on their next case, one that had unsettled her whole team but mostly Castle and Ryan._

The 3XK case happened about a year ago and the guy got away. Jerry Tyson, not his real name but who knows what that is, escaped leaving Ryan unconscious without his gun and badge and Castle tied to a chair in a motel room where they'd been trying to keep him safe when we thought he was a potential victim and not the mastermind behind the whole thing. I think it was when I got the call from Martha who was sure something was wrong with Castle because he'd told her he loved her on the phone, that I began to realise my true feelings for him. Espo and I got to the motel in record time and all I could think about was Castle lying dead in that room. I ran up the steps, burst into the room and saw him sitting there, tied up but otherwise unharmed. I've never been so relieved in my life. I have to confess that I never gave a second though to poor Kevin. My focus was only for the man in the chair. As we sat near the motel pool afterwards, he couldn't understand why Tyson hadn't killed them but surmised that it was to punish them, so that next time he killed, it would be on their consciences. That was the first time I held his hand.

The Jane Herzfeld case turned out to be linked to 3XK. The gun used to kill Jane – well, it was Ryan's service weapon, the Glock 17 Jerry Tyson had taken twelve months earlier. I had to tell Kevin about the ballistics report and he was floored by the information. He felt guilty, not that he had any reason to but, as I told Castle, it's a cop thing. Mind you, Castle felt the same responsibility, I could see it in his eyes. As I've said before, he has a cop's instincts and it evidently applies to the bad as well as the good aspects of the job.

As the case progressed, I had to watch as Ryan found it harder and harder to remain focused. He blew off some of it with undercover narcotics cop, Seth Carver who had basically sent Jane in to spy on the family of Chinese mob boss, Clifford Lee with no cover or back-up of any kind. I had to send him to cool off after that but later found him in the break room where he was more than ready to talk to me about the stupidest thing he'd ever done as a cop, years ago as a rookie detective with narcotics; that is, the stupidest before he'd allowed Tyson to take his weapon.

Eventually, Ryan had a go at the one person he should probably have avoided like the plague in his current state of mind, Gates. She immediately sent him home for the rest of the day to cool off. I know Kevin spoke out of turn, I was there to witness it, but she could have cut him some slack in the circumstances; but, typical Gates, no, everything by the book; inflexible bitch! Oh God, did I just write that. Better make sure this stays locked away and maybe shredding won't come a miss when I'm done because I think my career may be over if that ever gets back to our beloved Captain! As it was, okay, I may have slammed the door on my way out and maybe I surreptitiously gave her the bird and I guess I did behave like a petulant teenager but it at least made me feel a little better.

As it turned out, Ryan solved the case with help from Castle who spent hours trawling through old prison records to discover that Tyson, after a serious altercation which had landed him in the prison hospital, had 'befriended' Philip Lee during their time in the joint. Kevin's gun was recovered and Philip arrested. He tried to plea his time down with information about Tyson's current whereabouts and identity. I talked this offer through with Castle, I was curious to hear what he would say, how he would react knowing the depth of his feelings about 3XK. As it happened, he thought about it and immediately said no. He realised that because Tyson had given a 'hot' gun to Philip, knowing that, in time, he would use it and, without doubt, be caught, nothing Tyson had told him would be the truth and that Jane deserved justice. To say I was impressed would be a major understatement. Not only was I impressed but I was also immensely proud of my partner; there he was, thinking like a real cop, as I told him.

Although 3XK is still out there, at least Ryan now knows that his weapon is not going to kill any more innocent people, Ben Lee is free to start a new life away from the criminal activities of the family and Jane's family have answers and the knowledge of the bravery, commitment, love and sacrifice she had shown to the very end.

I've just remembered another conversation I had with Castle during this case, well, actually, on the way to the crime scene. I think I'd blocked it out but as I'm being honest, I suppose I should really include it. As I got out of the car, my surgery scar pulled as it does occasionally. I gasped at the sharp pain which immediately drew Castle's attention. The concern on his face was evident, which was no surprise, but his next question, once he'd established that I was actually okay, was. He asked me if I still don't remember anything about that day. I managed to reply that no, it was a blank but then had to turn away and get to the crime scene as quickly as I could. I didn't dare look back at Castle because I was afraid of what I might see. Does he believe me?

_Kate pondered the question. The lie she was still telling about the shooting and Castle's words often played on her mind. She was very well aware that the longer she maintained the pretence, the harder the truth would hit Castle but she also knew that until she could deal with her feelings, nothing could come from the truth because, more than anything else, she wanted to be in a position to say the words back to him._

_Aware that sleep was, once again, going to be hard to come by, Kate carefully locked the diary away, just in case Gates crept into her apartment during the night and found what she really thought about her, and dragged herself to bed._


	7. 7 Eye of the Beholder

**Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews, you guys are great.**

**Here's the next chapter and we see a rather different side to Kate.**

**Disclaimer: I may wish to be in Andrew Marlowe's shoes but I'm not so Castle still does not belong to me.**

Chapter 7

Eye of the Beholder

_The door to Kate Beckett's apartment slammed shut, shaking the walls. Her bag flew across the room missing its intended target, the sofa, by several feet, instead clattering into the legs of the small side table and dislodging several photo frames and the lamp which resided there, usually in peace. The detective was, to say the least, mad; furious may be a better word for it._

"_Shit!" she yelled, trying but failing miserably to right the objects so recently upended._

_She was mad with everyone, Castle, of course, nothing unusual in that, Serena 'Bloody' Kaye, Mrs 'High and Mighty' McHugh but most of all, she was furious with herself for allowing the situation to get to her._

"_Where the hell is that diary?" she said, feeling an urgent need to write everything down about the last couple of days and maybe, just maybe, get it all out of her system before she did some serious damage to something or someone._

Murder at an art gallery, body spiked on an exhibit, $50million piece missing, divorcing co-owners, international art thieves and Serena Kaye, sexy insurance investigator and, supposedly former, art thief; put them all together and you have a couple of the worst days of my life. Okay, well given my life, I suppose I've had far worse days, but at the moment, that's how it feels.

The case started well enough. I even let Castle know about my brief modelling career for an art class at college where my clothes consisted of, well, basically, nothing. That certainly gave him pause for thought. Nothing like stirring the Castle pot every now and again!

It went pretty much downhill from there, though, at least it did when darling Serena appeared on the scene, all blond hair, loopy gold earrings and blue dress leaving little to the imagination and, to top it all, rebuffing our perfectly plausible theories and coming up with some far-fetched story of her own. Okay, it wasn't so far-fetched but as for her offer to consult, well I wasn't having any of that; apart from anything else, I could tell Castle was far too taken with her, suggesting she had valuable assets. Yeah, know just what assets you're thinking of there, Castle (although, mind-reader as always, he denied that immediately).

Much though I hate to admit it, the siren's theory proved to be correct, the thief/murderer had indeed accessed the gallery via an air duct and left in an unmarked catering van. Just because she made a lucky guess, doesn't mean I had to like it. But it seemed enough for, of all people, Gates, who accepted the woman's offer to help and the 'expertise she could bring as a consultant'. I tried to say that I preferred to work with my own team but of course that includes Castle and Gates was quick to point out that my team included a consultant with 'no expertise at anything'. I suppose, in the circumstances, I asked for that one.

The boys seemed more than happy to have the blond bombshell on the team, Castle being only too willing to follow her like a little puppy when she went off to talk to some of her, no doubt shady, sources. Whatever happened between them while they were away, and I really didn't want to know, the next time Serena went to talk to sources, she left Castle behind but did tell him she'd catch him later to which Castle, full of the cheesy lines as always pipes up,

"You can catch me anytime."

Argh! I couldn't handle anymore of that and just walked away. Fortunately for me, I had an appointment with Dr Burke. I don't think it was fortunate for him, though. I had an outlet for my fury, he, poor guy, just had to sit there and listen. I think I may have used words such as uncooperative, cocky, stubborn, know-it-all to describe our temporary consultant. I did tell him that Castle seemed to think she was good at her job (among other things, but I didn't add that) and, as usual, he had to spoil my rant by asking a rather too pertinent question, why does that bother me?

Why does it bother me?

The answer I gave was probably not the whole truth, well it definitely wasn't the whole truth and I suspect Dr Burke knew that. I said,

"Because he's supposed to be my partner. He's supposed to be on my team. He's not supposed to be all smitten."

What I really meant was, because he's supposed to be in love with me, he's supposed to be mine. I told him it was complicated so naturally he wanted to know why, which was a stupid question because he's knows why it's complicated. I've told him enough already for him to work that one out but then he had to ask me,

"What are you really scared of? That he won't wait for you or that he will."

There you have it. Trust a psychiatrist to get to the nitty-gritty. How do I answer that one? I'm terrified of losing him, that he won't wait, that I'll take too long to get to where I need to be before I can open up to him. Then again, what happens if he does wait, if I am ready, can I even begin to handle a relationship with Richard Castle? What if it proves not to be right after all? What if the tension is all there is? How the hell do I know?

The next day, I decided I was going to try to make an effort and if Castle really wanted to pursue Serena, so be it. After all, he doesn't know that I heard him when I was shot, so if he wants to move on, I shouldn't stand in his way. God, what was I thinking! Anyway, then things started to look up and guess who the latest prime suspect was – none other than our own, dear Serena Kaye! Joy of joys! Poor Castle realised he'd been played and had the good grace to look embarrassed about it. It did also give me great pleasure to see Gates squirming with indignation at being made to look bad.

I came up with a ploy to get into Mata Hari's room. Castle would take her on a date to the hotel restaurant and keep her occupied, I may have used the words 'show her a good time', while Esposito and I searched the room to find any evidence we could to prove our theory. My words came back to bite me on the ass, big time.

I was searching the drawers but all I found was undeniably sexy and expensive underwear, stuff that I would never own in my wildest dreams, although, maybe... (Shut it, Beckett, don't go there, just don't.) Espo, of course, knows me like a brother and has a fair idea about my feelings for Castle and was quick to comment that I seemed to really want to nail Serena. I tried to play it down but he reads me well so I just had to play the boss card and tell him to keep looking. Finally it paid off and I found emails to fences on her tablet and, in her closet, Espo found a case containing everything a successful thief could ever need. We had her. It was at that point I picked up my phone to see a message from Castle that just said,

"Get out!"

Knowing that probably meant Serena was on her way up, we left the suite only for me to be completely knocked on my ass by the sight of Castle pressing that woman up against the wall and basically sucking her face off. I was beyond furious and rapidly made my presence known. Castle did at least have the decency to look 'hand-in-the-cookie-jar' guilty and it was with great pleasure that I arrested her for theft and murder.

Back at the precinct, Castle was not convinced of her guilt because she'd been perfectly open with him about her thieving past but that was easily explained away as far as I was concerned because she would feed him just enough truth to make swallowing her lies that much easier. I may just have accused him of thinking with the wrong body part. He was insisting that the kiss was the only way he could think of to give us time to get out of the room; that he was just doing what I asked; but I do know that I never asked him to swallow her tongue.

I benched him from the interview. There wasn't a cat in hell's chance of me letting him anywhere near that interview room. I was determined to enjoy it but things started to look off to me straight away. She was just too cool, countering every piece of evidence we had. She'd even done her homework on me, telling me I was a smart, methodical cop with great instincts, (good things to hear, if they weren't coming out of the mouth of a murder suspect). Then she had the audacity to tell me what I was thinking; that those instincts were telling me that she wasn't guilty but for some reason I was ignoring them and she wondered why that was.

Maybe because you were just caught in a very compromising position with the man I love, bitch!

As it happened, damn the woman to hell, she had an airtight alibi. We managed to find the art thief, Falco, an Englishman called William Holt and as we interrogated him it became clear that we had no hard evidence against him either, everything was merely circumstantial but he did seem to be telling us something, maybe that yes, okay, he was Falco but he wasn't a murderer.

Against my better judgement, I allowed Blondie in to talk to Holt, thief to thief. I wasn't convinced she'd get him to talk but I had to have another dig at Castle and suggested that she might kiss it out of him; childish, I know, but that's how I felt.

She gave us the information she got from Holt and, although I was very dubious, we headed back to the gallery to test out the new theory and, sure enough, Castle found the Fist of Capitalism, all $50millions worth of it hidden in the bottom of the weird TV sculpture we'd seen when we first arrived. He did put his foot in it, though, and I mean literally. Alyssa, the creator of it wasn't impressed but then she was now our prime suspect so I really didn't care. However, the plot did have one final twist as it turned out that Alyssa had sold the sculpture to none other than Mrs Joy McHugh, joint owner of the Fist with dear husband, Anton.

We'll bring Mrs Mc in tomorrow and should have the case closed in no time. Then what? It looks as though Castle's really interested in Serena. He was certainly convinced of her innocence. I guess it's only fair to him if I tell her that, let her know the sort of man she's dealing with; a good man with a great heart. Why the hell can't I just tell him how I feel? Why do I have to watch him go off with her? I don't want to but I do want what's best for him and if that's Serena Kaye, then so be it.

_All Kate's fury that was so evident earlier as proved by the wreckage around the room had dissipated and she was left feeling numb. She set the photos and lamp back to their rightful positions, picked her bag up and headed to the bedroom sure that, once again, a sleepless night awaited her but frankly just too miserable to care._

**A/N As you can see, I decided to make this chapter a little different as I decided it made for a better story to have Kate writing before the case was actually concluded. Hope it worked out. I think it did but I hope you guys do too.**


	8. 8 Demons

**Here's the next chapter and it's a bit lighter than the last.**

**Thanks again for the reviews; you are very kind.**

**Disclaimer: Castle does not belong to me but to ABC, Andrew Marlowe et al.**

Chapter 8

Demons

_Kate had had a good day. They had just solved not only the murder of TV Ghost Wrangler, Jack Sinclair, but also the twenty year old murder of Melanie Benton and the disappearance of her husband Matt. What was even better was the fact that Kate had found the case fun. She had never believed in anything remotely paranormal but this case had given her the opportunity to watch Castle in all his glory as he delighted in delving into the world of the supernatural; that was where the fun had come in. _

_As she relaxed on the sofa with a glass of wine, she decided that it would be a great idea to record this case in her diary as an antidote to the rather depressing last entry._

If ever there was a case right up Castle's street, this was it. It had everything his fertile mind could ever wish for in the context of the paranormal; ghosts, demons, secret passageways, a skeleton, mysterious sounds and happenings galore; in short, Castle heaven!

He's still worried about Alexis, though, which shouldn't surprise me. He loves her so much and it's just been the two of them for so long. I think he's really worried about her going off to college and simply not needing him anymore. She will, though, I know that as a daughter who went off to college herself; I'll always need my dad but the relationship will change and that's what he's most afraid of, I think; change. At the moment, he's worried that with Ashley at Stanford, the balance of power in his daughter's relationship has shifted but I told him not to be too concerned because she's a girl and Ashley is a teenage boy and in my opinion that means Alexis still holds all the cards.

Anyway, back to the case. I really shouldn't have been surprised to discover that Castle watches Ghost Wranglers, the show fronted by our victim, Jack Sinclair; I called it 'ridiculous' but he had to change that to 'ridiculously awesome'. It appeared that the owner of the property, Steve Fuller, was so fed up with not being able to rent it out because of all the previous complaints and problems that he'd called in Jack Sinclair and the Ghost Wranglers show in a desperate attempt to make it rentable again.

The scene that confronted us in the living room of the house resembled a horror movie. There was blood everywhere. Lanie was very quick to point out that the blood spatter completely encircled the body which was certainly odd because you would expect there to be a gap where the spatter landed on the killer. I could just sense Castle's excitement growing.

As this was a TV show, we were able to watch a recording of Sinclair's last moments but the cameras went dead just before the killing. Well, I didn't expect it to be that easy! Back at the precinct, we'd picked up Jack's usual cameraman but after checking out his alibi, he was in the clear but he had told us that Jack hadn't wanted to take this job. He was always a bit spooked at the thought of jobs in New York even though he originated from the city. Going over the evidence we had at that point, I could tell Castle was about to suggest a ghost did it so I got in first and threatened to send him home; a threat, I hasten to add, that I wouldn't dream of carrying out, not on a case like this one, anyway; but after his next suggestion of 'Apparition American' I was, just for a moment, tempted to change my mind!

I am a cop not a ghost hunter and so I knew we had to treat this case like any other, look into the victim's life and everything about his death would be explained; yes, even mysteriously moving tripods.

Next day, I couldn't believe it when I got to the precinct and Castle was already there, he never gets in before me. What was worse, he'd drunk my coffee. He'd been researching the McLaren house and had discovered there had been eight killings there since it had been built in 1898 and in each case where the killer had been caught they said a demon had made them do it. He was really excited by this but I hadn't had my coffee so I suggested staking the place out and zapping the demon with our proton packs. As I said, caffeine-free Beckett, not good! As a slight peace offering, I allowed Shaggy and Scooby (sorry, Ryan and Castle) to go and talk to the last tenants.

Meanwhile Esposito and I gathered more evidence together from a couple of interesting characters. Ron Berger, a former prisoner who'd reckoned he'd been molested by a ghost in his cell (yeah, right!) and Mercy LeGrande, a paranormal consultant (I say again, yeah, right!) Anyway it turned out that Jack Sinclair as an eleven year old had witnessed the murder of Melanie Benton in the McLaren House and had suppressed the memory of it for all these years until he came back and the memories began to resurface. This would, of course, worry Melanie's killer. We had a motive, folks!

We talked to both the original investigating officer, Addison Smith and Matt Benton's brother, Pete. Detective Smith said he was always convinced that Matt Benton had killed his wife and then disappeared to Europe. Pete Benton had received a postcard from Vienna five years after the murder in which Matt denied responsibility and mentioned a demon. After checking car service records from Pete Benton's firm, we had to check out the Fairwick Hotel in case Matt had returned from his self-imposed exile.

I volunteered to do that one on my own as Espo, Ryan, Lanie and Jenny had big dinner plans that evening and there was no way I was going to send the boys and be responsible for them being late, hence ruining Lanie's plans. I am not a masochist!

The hotel trip was a bust, though. I'd not long been home, just long enough to pour myself a large glass of red, when a very excited Castle turned up on my doorstep.

"Laird's Lug!" he exclaimed, looking decidedly pleased with himself.

I, of course, had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. He could have been talking a foreign language, although, even then, I might have had some idea! I thought I must be enjoying the wine a bit too much but, as I'd hardly had chance to drink more than a mouthful, maybe I hadn't had enough. He went on to explain something about secret alcoves built in Scottish castles and, as the architect of the McLaren House was a Scot, maybe there was indeed a Laird's Lug which could explain all the mysterious goings on. Actually, that theory sounded remarkably reasonable, so I said we could check it out in the morning. Castle looked mournful at that idea and I realised he was in nine year old on a sugar rush mode and certainly waiting until morning was not on his agenda. He then tried to psych me out by suggesting I was scared so I played along for a bit before finally agreeing to go. Then he had to say:

"If you're not scared, just say it."

Now here comes a weird part, although when it comes to Castle and me, maybe not so weird; I knew just what he was talking about. We do seem to have this ability to know exactly what the other one's thinking. That's how we work so well as a team, finishing each other sentences, building theory, we don't have to think about what's going on in the other's brain, we just know. I didn't want to encourage him too much so I half heartedly refused but when I was on the receiving end of those puppy dog eyes and he pleaded:

"For me. Please?" I just had to give in,

"I ain't afraid of no ghosts!"

Sorry, but he is just so adorable when he's in that mood and I make no apology for thinking that but there is no way on earth I would ever say it. Well, not just at the moment, anyway. In the future, who knows?

In the living room of the house, we searched for Castle's Laird's Lug. I pointed out that if we found it, that would put paid to all his demon theories; we'd just have a case of a psycho hiding in a room. He wasn't overly impressed when I suggested that, if all worldly explanations were exhausted, then I would be open to the alternative. Called me Scepticus Maximus. Actually, I like that, it sums me up. I had to have a go at winding him up then. I told him this tale about my own experience of the paranormal and I have to say, I must have told it well because he fell for it, hook, line and sinker. I couldn't believe it, actually, I really thought he knew me better than that. Or maybe he was just carried away in the moment and the setting.

Just as I came clean, things started to get weird. First the door slammed shut. Then the lights went out. Even the torch, which I was sure I'd only just put new batteries in, flickered and died. I found some matches, lit a candle and sure enough, that was blown out. Something odd was definitely going on here but I found a possible source for the draught; a hollow panel in the ceiling. The only way to reach it was for me to climb on Castle's shoulders as there was no way I was going to try to find something else to climb on in the pitch black. Sure enough, when I pushed the panel, it slid open with exactly the noise we'd heard on the recording just prior to Jack Sinclair's death. It looked like we'd found our Laird's Lug. Now we just had to get up there.

I needed an extra boost and asked Castle to hold my legs as I climbed up but his hands managed to find a whole different part of my anatomy. I gasped as I felt him but I didn't find it a completely unpleasant experience. Who am I trying to kid, it sent a sudden jolt of electricity to my very core. Much though I wanted the feeling to last, I had to end the moment,

"Castle, I said legs, okay."

We found the passageway and a number of rather large rats which freaked Castle out more than the idea of ghosts and demons. The passageway led to a room where there was a magnetic field generator. When this machine was activated, it created a magnetic field, attracting anything metal and it would have knocked out the cameras as well. What we also found in this room was a skeleton in a cupboard. Actually, the skeleton fell out of the cupboard and onto Castle who screamed like a girl and received my infamous eye roll for his troubles.

The case resolved quickly from that point. We ruled out Pete Benton because the poor guy was able to give precise details of where he was when Melanie and Matt were killed. He was in love with Melanie and said that when you lose someone you love the details are burned into your brain, every detail of the night you heard. He said he couldn't forget it if he tried. I know exactly what he means.

We then suspected the house owner, Mr Fuller but when we set up the trap, the fish we actually caught was none other than Detective Addison Smith. He said a demon made him do it but I'm sure that's just laying the grounds for an insanity plea.

I have to say, it was great to find explanations for all the weirdness; the passageway, faulty wiring, draughty old house. Castle, though, was convinced that Jack Sinclair's ghost had helped us to solve his own murder. What did I do? I humoured him, of course. I admitted to that possibility, if he would admit that there was no demon. We had a deal.

_Kate grinned as she put the diary away and thought about all the banter she and Castle had shared over the last couple of days. She was still keeping a big secret from him and she certainly wasn't ready to move the relationship forward but she felt they were in a really good place at the moment and hoped they would be able to sustain it. She thought again about his straying hands, how they'd felt touching her and how her body had responded of its own accord. She headed towards her bedroom and realised that she was blushing madly._


	9. 9 Cops and Robbers (Part 1)

**I found this one so hard to write. Cops and Robbers is one of my very favourite episodes (along with many of you, I'm sure) and I wanted, so much, to do it justice. Hope I've managed it. **

**I also had to split it into two chapters because well there was rather a lot of stuff going on in Beckett's head!**

**Disclaimer: wish I could have thought it up, but I didn't, so it's not mine!**

Chapter 9

Cops and Robbers (Part 1)

_Kate had the day off and it was just as well. She'd spent the last five hours alternating between lying awake, tossing and turning, and sleeping but experiencing vivid nightmares. These nightmares were different, though. Usually her dreams centred on her mother's death, her own shooting, Montgomery's betrayal or any number of other events around the same theme. Last night she dreamed about Castle; Castle dead; shot; blown apart by an explosion. The nightmares had left her terrified. She knew that they were just that, nightmares, tricks of her sub-conscious brain but she was left trembling and in a cold sweat._

_At 5.30, she decided to go for a run. She ran further and faster than usual, trying to escape her demons. It had no effect. She tried yoga for an hour, thinking that she may be able to lose herself in the relaxation of mind and body. That failed, too. She took herself off to the precinct gym where she ran out of available (or was that willing) sparing partners. Kate Beckett was a formidable opponent at the best of times but today, she was just ferocious. She left the gym in agony. Her physical therapist, Roger, had told her she could do some light sparing. That had not been a light session and her body was now telling her how stupid she was being._

_She tried soaking her aching body in the bath and although that managed to ease the physical pain, the mental anguish was still there as prominent as ever. Finally she took out the diary and began to write about the events of the previous day; the day that had shaken her to the very core._

Yesterday started out just fine. We didn't have a new case so I was finally catching up on overdue paperwork. Castle, of course, was nowhere to be seen. I'd been at it for a couple of hours when the phone rang. Talk of the devil, it was Castle but I have to say, his first words took me completely by surprise,

"Tell me you need me."

How was I supposed to answer that one? Tell him the truth and open my soul to him, no Kate Beckett doesn't do that or lie to him and risk everything we've been building recently. So I did what I always do, played for time,

"Excuse me?" I replied.

As it turned out, what he really meant was that he was bored and wishing fervently that there was a dead body somewhere to rescue him. He was apparently stuck at the bank while his mother was trying to negotiate a loan to repair her acting studio and business meetings were not Castle's idea of a fun time, although evidently better than doing paperwork with me. I'm not sure, but I think I feel a little insulted by that. Anyway, his boredom seemed to be causing his writer's imagination to run away with him as he was suddenly concerned that the bank was about to be robbed. He'd spotted a couple of suspicious-looking characters in doctors' scrubs and had decided to weave a story around them.

Then I heard it; a voice shouting for everyone to get down on the floor. Castle was right, the bank was indeed about to be robbed. I could hear the confusion in the background, voices yelling, people screaming. He told me he was at New Amsterdam Bank and Trust on Lexington so I immediately got Esposito to advise dispatch. The robbers were relieving everyone of their cell phones and Castle was evidently hiding while he gave me all the information he could. He told me there were three of them, all dressed in scrubs, emptying the cash drawers and taking the manager's key. At that moment, my heart froze as I heard the familiar sound of a hand gun being cocked.

"Make that four," said Castle and it didn't take a genius to figure that he'd been discovered. I heard a guy threatening to make an example of him but the next thing I know, the robber is on the other end of the line,

"Sorry, your friend can't talk right now."

Now I'm no expert in hostage situations and my next move may not have been the correct one but I let him know that I was a cop and that I had squad cars on the way to the bank. I heard Castle denying that he'd called the cops, not strictly true as he had called me; that we'd already been on the phone when they came in, which was, of course, true. It seemed to satisfy the guy. I offered him a way out; just leave, take nothing, no-one gets hurt and they could disappear. I thought he was considering it for a moment when he asked if I promised not to look for him but then I couldn't help myself, I had to let him know the sort of cop he was dealing with,

"I don't look, I hunt; and trust me, you don't want that."

Was that smart? Hell, I don't know. But the next thing I do know, he's turning down my offer and the line goes dead. There was only one thing to do now; I had to get down there. There was no way on earth I was staying at the precinct while Castle was held hostage in a bank robbery.

When we got there, the place was swarming with cops and press. A cordon had been set up and members of the public were being cleared from the area. I made my way to the Command Centre and introduced myself to the commander, Captain Peterson. I must say, I took an immediate dislike to the man but he was the expert and Castle's life was in his hands for the time being. I told him my partner was in the bank and he naturally assumed that meant he was a cop. I contemplated lying or at least not correcting him because, maybe that would change his attitude, but I was sure it wouldn't take long for the truth to come out and then I would have lost his trust totally; so I told him that Castle was a civilian investigator, that we'd been on the phone when the situation began and that I'd talked to one of the robbers. He asked about his demeanour and I told him just how calm he'd been; in fact, as I thought about it, the guy had been scarily calm. Once Captain Peterson had got all the information from me, he made it very clear that my presence was no longer required. As I left the Command Centre, I stopped to look at the bank where, at that very moment, Castle and Martha's lives were under threat and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. Well I wasn't prepared to settle for that.

I sent Esposito off to talk to his buddies in ESU and Ryan to find out about any other robberies with the same MO. At least if we could gather information it might give us some leverage. Next thing I know, I'm summoned back to the Command Centre. It appeared the robber I'd spoken to earlier would only talk to me. As I said before, I have absolutely zero training in hostage negotiation but Captain Peterson simply told me to do the opposite of what my homicide training told me; don't yell, don't bully, don't threaten him in any way. Yeah, like that's easy! But it did give me a way in; a way to have some control over the situation; a way to help Castle instead of standing around waiting for someone else to rescue _my_ partner. So I agreed.

I started to build rapport straight away when the robber stated that he didn't like Captain Peterson; that was easy because neither did I; we had something in common, at least! I got a name from him, then, Trapper John; obviously a M*A*S*H fan. I couldn't quite believe just how in control of the situation Trapper John was. He knew our playbook, probably a lot better than I did, come to that. He calmly threatened to kill hostages if we did anything other than follow his instructions and told me he'd start with 'my boyfriend'. Okay, so Castle isn't my boyfriend but, if I'm very honest and I am being here, he might just as well be because my feeling of dread could not have been greater even if we were officially an item.

I was as nervous as hell. I wanted to do something, anything; but hostage negotiations are not like murder investigations apparently and doing nothing is all you can do. Crap!

Espo came back from chatting with his ESU buddies but it was all bad news. The bank cameras were down and there was no way of getting eyes or ears on what was going on inside. In that scenario, if they stormed the bank the hostages stood no chance. He didn't need to say it, I could tell just by looking at his face.

Trapper John came back on the phone a few minutes later. I tried to get him to release Simone, the pregnant bank teller but he was having none of it. He was willing to let her go but only after they'd got to Teterboro Airport and he was planning on keeping the rest of the hostages until they arrived at a foreign destination of his choosing. He gave us three hours to get them a bus.

Captain Peterson immediately ordered the bus but denied he was giving in to demands saying that the only way Trapper John was leaving was in handcuffs or a body bag but if necessary he could use the bus to lure the robbers out and have snipers take them out. He may have been the expert, but this didn't feel right to me.

It was at this point that a flashing light was spotted in the bank and it took me all of about three seconds to realise that it was Morse code and to know exactly who was sending the message. I had to smile to myself; Castle was okay and, as always, was trying to help. The message was cryptic, though; SDB 120 repeated over and over again. I had to understand what he was trying to tell me and, yes, I knew perfectly well that the message was for me. It only took a moment; Safe Deposit Box 120. That was all well and good, but, Castle, what the hell did that mean? Records showed that the box belonged to an elderly couple, Gideon and Agnes Fields. Now I had a way to help so I sent Ryan and Esposito to talk to the Fields.

The boys didn't take long to report back. Gideon Fields had been dead for four years – odd, as he'd been accessing the Safe Deposit Box regularly - and they'd found Agnes's body at their home. She looked as though she'd been dead about a week and the place was trashed as though the killer had been searching for something. There was a broken keychain necklace on the body which must have held the box key. Ryan also found a top of the range bug. This wasn't just a run of the mill bank robbery. What the hell was going on? I had no clue.

Then things got even more complicated. I turned round and saw a familiar figure at the edge of the crowd looking terrified. It was Alexis. I had to get off the phone and talk to her. I instructed Esposito to carry on the investigation at the Fields' home and quickly crossed to the young red-head. I don't think I'd ever seen the usually so mature girl looking so young and fragile. She was in a state of blind panic. I've dealt with the family of victims all my career but this felt so very different; this was the daughter of my partner, the man I know I love; this was personal; but I had to push down my own fears and be as professional and reassuring as I could. In the end, though, I held her arms and made her a promise that they'd be okay; a promise that I had no idea if I could keep; a promise made as much for my own benefit as hers. Then she looked at me with eyes suddenly as hard as steel,

"They'd better," and that was when I realised just how much was at stake here. This wonderful girl in front of me was in grave danger of losing a parent, the only parent she'd ever been really close to, and her grandmother. She was just a year younger than I was when my mother was killed. I was not prepared to allow Alexis to go through that. I would do anything in my power to prevent it.

At that moment I was called back to the Command Centre. I told Alexis I had to go but asked one of the uniforms to stay with her. I didn't want her to be left alone.

_Kate realised that the day was getting away from her. It was her day off and all she'd done so far was nearly kill herself by exercising way too much and write in her diary. It was already mid-afternoon and she'd managed to miss both breakfast and lunch. It was time to take a break and at least grab a sandwich. She could finish the diary entry later._

**Hope you guys are okay with this so far. Part 2 will be up tomorrow. Please feel free to let me know how it's going.**


	10. 10 Cops and Robbers (Part 2)

**Thanks for the encouragement. I'm glad to see positive comments about my efforts at this episode.**

**Here's Part 2**

**Disclaimer: Do you really think I could possibly come up with these characters? No, thought not. I couldn't get close.**

Chapter 10

Cops and Robbers (Part 2)

_After managing to scrape together a vaguely appetizing salad from the meagre contents of her fridge, Kate quickly returned to the diary._

Trapper John was back in contact. It appeared that one of the hostages had had a seizure and in an unusual fit of generosity he was requesting a paramedic to remove the sick man. However, in return, the bus had to be there in twenty minutes. It was still thirty five minutes away and Peterson expected me to ask Trapper John for more time. Well I knew there wasn't a snowball in hell's chance of him agreeing to that.

Peterson's next suggestion, though, sent a chill right through me; storming the bank. There was no way we could do that, hostages would die, Castle might well be one of them. I had to come up with another idea. Then it came to me; the sick hostage. I finally had a plan, a way to use my experience to help and it didn't hurt that, if I was allowed to do this, I'd be able to see Castle, check for myself how he was holding up. I put my idea to Peterson and was slightly surprised when he actually agreed to it.

The plan was for me to go in dressed as a paramedic and, while treating the hostage, gather as much intelligence as possible so, if it came to a SWAT team having to breach the bank, they would at least have more to go on. I was nervous as I waited for a uniform but I'd been in plenty of undercover situations before. This was something I did know how to do.

I approached the doors of the bank, pushing a gurney. As I was allowed in, I really hoped I'd managed to school my features because the very first person I laid eyes on was Castle. He looked up and almost did a double take as he realised it was me standing there and not actually a paramedic. I could immediately tell that he was scared but I could also see total trust, trust in my ability to help. We gazed at each other for a brief moment but it was long enough to say plenty. We've always been able to convey so much with our eyes. While I was searched, I was able to look around and establish the fact that all the hostages appeared to be alive and well, apart from the guy with the seizure, and were gathered together on the floor of the banking hall. As for the robbers, they seemed to be exactly as Castle had originally described them, well armed, wearing scrubs and very professional. I also noticed Castle writing a note and hiding it in his hand.

I then got into character and portrayed the perfect paramedic, which allowed me the opportunity to talk to Castle and I grasped it in both hands. The hostage's name was Sal Martino and in speaking reassuring words to Sal, I hoped Castle understood that the words were really meant for him and him alone,

"I want you to know there are people out there that care about you. I promise you, I'll get you out of here."

I even managed to give Castle's hand a slight squeeze as we snatched another glance at each other. The moment was cut short by one of the robbers encouraging me to get a move on. As Castle and I lifted Sal onto the gurney and strapped him down, he slipped the note I'd noticed earlier into my hand. Then I had to leave. I pushed the gurney out through doors and took one last, lingering look back at Castle, hoping that he understood that I would do everything in my power to get him out. The doors closed and I had to get on with the job of fulfilling my promise.

At the very least, I could now reassure Alexis that her dad was indeed okay but as I did so I read the note and suddenly I thought my heart was planning on leaving my chest. There was C4 in the bank. Why the hell would they need C4? I made sure Alexis was taken well away, behind the cordon before returning to the Command Centre to report back to Captain Peterson.

I was then given the impossible task of trying to persuade Trapper John to give us more time for the bus. I called him up and guess what? He refused; big surprise there. He also seemed to start to lose his cool. I tried to calm him down, wishing someone could calm me down, wishing I had Castle's voice telling me, "You've got this, Kate." The next thing I heard was a scream that sounded suspiciously like Martha, followed by a gunshot. I froze.

"What was that?" I asked. Evidently it was a warning shot. The next one would be for the kill and it appeared that Castle was the one in the firing line.

"I'm gonna make pretty red stains out of your boyfriend, Kate. I've got my gun to his throat and I'm gonna paint a Jackson Pollock with his insides."

That did it for me. Cool totally gone. Peterson may have spoken but I just laid into Trapper John. No-one threatens the man I love, simple as that, no-one.

"Listen to me, jackass." Yeah, that was keeping the situation calm, Kate.

"I do not control traffic so you're gonna have to give me twenty minutes."

He gave me one.

"No, I've got twenty, do you hear me, twenty. Because if you pull that trigger, I will walk through those doors and personally put a bullet through your skull."

What was it Captain Peterson had told me earlier, don't yell, don't bully, don't threaten him in any way. I think I may not have listened too well. But the truth is, I would have done exactly what I said and therefore it wasn't a threat, it was a promise.

The silence that followed seemed to last an eternity. Had I just signed Castle's death warrant? Had my lack of self-control put the rest of the hostages in the firing line? But then, completely out of the blue, Trapper John gave us another twenty minutes. I couldn't believe what I'd just heard but Captain Peterson was willing to accept the extra time at face value.

As the minutes ticked by, the team in the Command Centre were planning an assault on the bus but I was totally preoccupied. He'd given me an extra twenty minutes without asking for anything in return. That just wasn't right. Hostage takers never give without taking something. Add another item to the list of things that made absolutely no sense in all of this.

I tried talking to Ryan and Esposito again but they had nothing new. They were just telling me about Agnes's lack of relatives when my world suddenly ended. Or at least, that was how it felt. An explosion rocked the Command Centre. In that moment my heart stopped. I couldn't breathe. I managed to make my way to the door and outside. The bank had turned into something akin to a war zone. There was dust, smoke and debris everywhere. As I gazed in horror at the sight, I knew that was it, Castle was dead. The hostages had been in the main banking hall and from what I could tell, that was pretty close to the source of the explosion. They simply could not have survived that blast.

I had to get into that bank. I had to find him. A flicker of hope stirred in my brain and as the team entered the bank I was right there with them, shouting Castle's name. The damage was extensive but not devastating. The flicker shone a little brighter. Then, as I shouted a third time, came the most joyous sound I have ever heard,

"Beckett?"

That one word and my life began again. My heart resumed normal service. I found all the hostages alive and well sitting on the floor of the vault. They all had their hands tied but, strangely, the door was not even locked. I looked at Castle who gave me a smile and a small wave with his bound hands. I had never seen a better sight in my life. I went into the vault having alerted the rest of the team to their whereabouts but I only had eyes for one man. I fell onto my knees at his feet and couldn't keep the smile off my face. He looked so good; alive and still as ruggedly handsome as ever. I cut the ties binding his hands and couldn't help but put my hand out, playing a little with his collar as I asked him how he was. We gazed into each others eyes, there was so much more I wanted to tell him and, by the look on his face, so much he was ready to hear but,

"He's not the only one here, you know."

Martha. How could I have forgotten that he wasn't the only person I knew in that bank? I hastily stammered out an apology and freed Martha's hands, too. God, the look on Castle's face was a picture.

The robbers had intended to blast a hole in the floor and escape into the subway but they'd messed up and the C4 had gone off early and killed them. Those guys were professionals. There was no way they could have made such a basic error but their scattered body parts seemed to suggest that they had. Neither Castle nor I could quite comprehend it. Yet another piece of this whole puzzle that didn't seem to fit.

As we left the bank, there was a very happy reunion of the Castle family. Alexis flung herself into her father's arms. Martha joined the embrace and I stood and watched, feeling somehow left out which was totally unfair and uncalled for, until Alexis looked up, caught my eye and I could tell she was thanking me for keeping my promise. Just like that, I felt included, a part of that family embrace; it felt wonderful.

I still had a job to do, though. I went over to talk to Ryan and Esposito who'd returned from Agnes Fields' place. Ryan showed me a photograph of Ron Brandt, Agnes's son-in-law and pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. It was Sal Martino, the hostage who'd been taken to hospital. He'd checked himself out and was now in the wind. He was behind it all but why?

We returned to the precinct and looked into Brandt's background and it didn't take us very long to find the motive for the charade. His wife, Tanya, and son, Connor, had faked their deaths to escape from Brandt's abuse. The Safe Deposit Box had been a means of communicating between Tanya and her mother and the letters retrieved from the box would tell Brandt exactly where his wife and son were living. We had to get to them first.

We tracked down a priest who had been posing as Gideon Fields and acting as a go-between. When we explained the situation to him, he gave us the address in Ithaca. I got straight on to the cops there who sent a team to the house immediately. They kept us on hold. The wait seemed interminable but was probably no more than seven or eight minutes. Then the news came through. They'd got there in time. Ron Brandt was under arrest, Connor was fine and so was Tanya other than needing a few stitches. The relief we all felt was immense. Ryan and Esposito headed off to Ithaca to bring Brandt back while Castle and I simply allowed the peace to flow over us for a moment.

Castle soon brought us back to reality, though,

"Even as a hostage, I help you solve murders. Beckett, I think you have the perfect partner."

Tell me something I don't know, Castle.

"Yeah, except he doesn't like doing paperwork!" was how I actually replied. Well, I wasn't going to stoke his ego, was I?

I offered to take him to the Old Haunt for a drink but he went one better and invited me back to the loft for dinner. After the day we'd had, how could I refuse? Well, frankly, there was absolutely zero chance of me refusing.

When we arrived at the loft I was enveloped in an enormous hug by Martha. It was quite overwhelming but on the other hand, it also just felt right. I felt ...home. The spread was massive, way too much food for the four of us but Martha had insisted that after facing death we had to feast, to celebrate life. Fair comment. Castle had excused himself so he could check on Alexis who, I gathered, was having boyfriend problems but when he returned we toasted each other and he totally ruined the moment by telling me that he'd saved my life more than I'd saved his. Now I may just be a little competitive so I couldn't let that go without arguing my side. The discussion would have gone on all evening, I suspect, had Martha and Alexis not shut us up by suggesting that after the day we'd all had, talking about death was not high on their list of dinner topics.

I had an amazing evening. I love that family and hope that someday...

_Kate wasn't too sure how to complete that thought even with her new found honesty but she did feel much better now. The day had ended on a high. The hostages were all safe and back with their families. Castle and Martha were both alive and well. Still, she needed to be sure. She knew Castle was at a meeting all day so she couldn't speak to him but she decided he'd probably be so bored by now that he'd welcome the distraction of a quick text._

_**Hey, Castle. You okay?**_

_Sure enough, the reply was instant._

_**Bored to tears but, yeah, I'm fine. You?**_

_**I'm okay. Tired tho'. Bad dreams.**_

_She was a little surprised by the reply,_

_**Tell me about it!**_

_So he'd had nightmares, too._

_**You too?**_

_**Yeah! Oh hell, ex #2's giving me the evil eye. I'm supposed to be concentrating on this boring stuff. Better go. See you tomorrow, Kate.**_

_Oops, Gina had obviously caught him texting._

_**Sorry for getting you into trouble! Just needed to know you were okay. Tomorrow, Castle.**_

_**You can get me into trouble anytime! Why, Detective Beckett, do I sense a note of concern for my well-being?**_

_Her reply was immediate,_

_**Always.**_

**Hope you enjoyed this. It's always good to hear what you think.**


	11. 11 Killshot (Part 1)

**Thanks again for the reviews, your support is truly appreciated.**

**You will notice that I've missed an episode out! I'm afraid that I couldn't find enough Kate stuff in Heartbreak Hotel to justify a chapter of its own and because it falls between two awesome Beckett episodes, I couldn't add it to either of those. So I hope you'll forgive me if it's a favourite of yours!**

**I think these 2 chapters were probably the hardest to write. Well, come off it, just how amazing was Stana Katic's performance. She really brought out all the emotions and I have tried hard to put that into words.**

**Hope you're up to the ride!**

**Disclaimer: Very definitely do not belong to me.**

Chapter 11

Killshot (Part 1)

_Kate looked around her apartment. There was no evidence left now of the near total nervous breakdown she'd suffered just a few days earlier. The blinds were open, letting in the late afternoon sunshine; she'd cleared up the broken glass but the images of that night were still fresh in her mind. She'd just had her regular appointment with Dr. Burke and finally, finally she felt the possibility of light at the end of the dark tunnel that was her life. _

_Their last case had been so hard; it had awoken far too many of Kate's hidden emotions but after today's session she was ready to write in her diary again. She had doubted that she would ever feel able to record those few days but here she was, pen in hand, at least willing to try._

I'm not Richard Castle; I'm not a writer; words don't come easily to me so this may not turn out very well but it's not supposed to be a work of literature, just the honest thoughts of a woman trying to heal, trying to find a better place for the future away from the pain of the past. So here goes nothing.

We got the call to a shooting. A woman, Sarah Vasquez, had been gunned down in broad daylight, on a busy street, right in front of her best friend and no-one had seen or heard a thing. There she was, lying in the street with a bullet wound in her chest. I couldn't help but put my hand to my own chest, remembering the burning sensation but I'd been lucky, Sarah Vasquez hadn't. I tried to consider alternatives, a gun with a silencer maybe, but it seemed pretty obvious what had happened; we needed to know why it had happened and who had pulled the trigger so we had to start delving into Sarah's life.

Castle and I talked to her fiancé, Chris. They'd only been engaged for a month and they were looking forward to their wedding. The poor guy was devastated. He did mention that Sarah had talked about a man she thought had been following her but he couldn't remember any details.

Lanie had some information for us so we went to the morgue. It was clear that my original fears were correct but Lanie and Esposito were trying way too hard to avoid saying the words so I put them out of their misery. Sarah Vasquez was killed by a sniper. I knew they were only trying to spare my feelings but I had a job to do and I wasn't going to be able to do it properly if everyone was treading on eggshells around me. We had to look for someone with motive but Castle then put the question,

"What if there isn't one? What if she was shot at random? How do we find him then?"

Was he right? Could this be the D.C. shootings all over again only this time right here on our watch?

We had nothing more to go on for the time being so we called it a day to enable us to get some rest before what was likely to be a long and arduous case but when I got home the flashbacks started. I'd taken my top off and couldn't help but put my fingers to the long, surgical scar on my left side and the small, round, puckered mark between my breasts and, just like that, I was back in the cemetery; I heard the gunshot; I heard the shouts and screams; my chest was burning again.

The next morning we were called to another one; this time the victim was a 38 year old attorney, Henry Wyatt. As I approached the crime scene, I was aware of all the noise around me, it seemed louder than normal. Lanie gave me the information about the bullet and Espo confirmed that the shooter was becoming more confident but my mind was drifting. Suddenly, I felt as though I was in one of those movies where the heroes are trapped in a room with the walls and ceiling closing in to crush them only, instead of solid walls and ceiling, I was being crushed by sound, light and movement. I tried to focus on what Esposito was saying but the next thing I was aware of was my ass hitting the ground and Castle, Lanie and Esposito standing there, staring at me with concerned faces. I still don't know what happened, Castle called it a startle response but all I knew was that I'd completely lost control for a moment and that terrified me.

Back at the precinct, we had a briefing but I was in a world of my own. I couldn't focus on anything that was said. Castle, of course, noticed my lack of concentration. Well, he does seem to notice everything about me so he was hardly likely to miss that one. He tried to be supportive and I just snapped at him which was so unfair but, as I said, I was barely in control. Our exchange didn't go unnoticed but Gates continued by asking me about possible connections between the two victims. I answered as best I could but as soon as the attention was off me again, I found myself struggling to breathe and I knew I had to get out of there. Castle asked me where I was going and I gave him some vague response. I think Ryan may have spoken to me as well but I needed to go; I needed air; I needed to see Dr. Burke urgently.

I made it to Dr. Burke's office in record time and, after I'd created a scene in the reception area, he agreed to see me straight away. As it turned out, I needn't have caused a rumpus because he'd seen about the shooting on the news and was well aware that, if I was involved in the case, I would probably be along to see him.

The meeting didn't exactly go as I'd hoped. I knew something was wrong with me but I wanted him to simply give me something to make it go away, to enable me to get on with my job. He said I had PTSD. I denied it, of course. I couldn't have that. PTSD happened to other people, it didn't happen to me. I was stronger than that. I was wrong. I know that now. Then, though, I was not ready to accept the truth. He said I should consider stepping away from the case, that I wasn't the only cop in the city. He was right but I didn't see it that way, I saw it as a challenge to my ability as a cop. I told him that I was fine as if I thought I could sort myself out by sheer willpower alone. I thanked him and walked out. I should have listened to him.

My bravado in front of Dr. Burke had evaporated by the time I returned to the precinct. Standing in the elevator, I was struggling to breathe properly again and my hands were shaking. I was a wreck. As the doors opened, I was bombarded by noise; people seemed to be everywhere. I managed to focus on Esposito as he gave me new information about a shell casing they'd found and that they were just on their way, with a tactical team, to a gun range to pull a guy in for questioning. I found myself pulling back. I knew there was no way I was in any condition to go into the field but neither was I ready to admit to that. Castle, alert as ever to my state of mind, saved my embarrassment, though, by saying that he and I could stay behind and prepare for the interview once the suspect was brought in.

The interview with Marcus Ford did not go well. I lost control; yelled; accused; couldn't see beyond the fact that he had been a military sniper and had put bullets into 92 people during his time in the service; 92 people just like me. How unfair was that? The guy had been serving his country. He said that every life he took had saved other lives and I'm sure he's right but at the time, I could only see myself on the ground with a sniper's bullet in my chest.

As I sat staring at the murder board, the flashbacks started again. This time, not just sounds but pictures. I could see everything; myself at the podium in the crosshairs; Castle tackling me; Lanie's face. I was brought back to the present by Castle who'd brought me a coffee, a decaf coffee. That man is amazing. He knows me better than I know myself sometimes. He knew I was wired but didn't know how to help except by adjusting my usual coffee order. It was so sweet.

The next phone call I got led us to the room the sniper had used when he killed Sarah Vasquez. I found myself hesitating as I went in; I felt really uncomfortable there. I jumped down everyone's throat the minute they said anything. Espo and Ryan took some moleskin to check for DNA, leaving Castle and I alone. I thought about how Sarah had been dreaming of her perfect wedding and then was dead, shot by a man looking through a scope from this very room and by looking through that scope, he might just as well have been standing right next to her. He would have been able to see her eyes as he shot her. Castle tried to be reassuring,

"We're gonna catch this guy."

"Yeah, like we caught the guy that shot me," was my reply.

That night was the night of my near breakdown. First of all, I hit the bottle. I was just going to have one to try to take the edge off my nerves but then I had a second and a third. When I'd finally emptied it and downed the last of the whiskey, the panic hit me like a train. I saw myself shot again only this time I was certain it was happening right there and then. I have no clear recollection of what happened next only that there was glass all over the floor, the blinds were shut and I spent the night cowering in a corner, gun in hand and blood pouring from a gash in my arm.

_Kate decided to take a break at this point. She needed to calm down. The fears of that night were still very vivid. Although she'd always enjoyed drinking and could drink most of the guys at the precinct under the table, she'd always avoided drinking when she was under pressure. She knew only too well what that could lead to. Her father had almost drowned in the bottle after her mother's death and the worry was always in the back of her mind, did she have a genetic predisposition to do exactly the same thing. That night seemed to suggest that she did._

_Kate went for a run._

**Well, there you go. Please let me know what you think. Part 2 will be up tomorrow.**


	12. 12 Killshot (Part 2)

**Here's the conclusion of Killshot. Hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: These characters are way too good to be mine so they still belong to ABC, AWM et al.**

Chapter 12

Killshot (Part 2)

_When she returned from her run, Kate was feeling much calmer. She had a quick shower, grabbed a bite to eat and returned to the sofa. She picked up the diary, took a deep breath to steel herself for the task in hand and carried on with her latest entry._

The next morning I was back at my desk, hiding both a hell of a hangover and my bandaged arm. The gash probably needed stitches but I'd just wrapped a dressing round it. Blood was clearly visible but I simply pulled the sleeve of my jacket down and continued with the pretence that I was fine. I was reviewing the tape of the sniper planting the wind gauge. Something was nagging at me about the film but I couldn't put my finger on it.

It appeared the moleskin hadn't produced any useful evidence but Castle suddenly burst into the precinct. He'd worked out that the paper dolls which had been found in the two hides were predictive. The doll found at the Sarah Vasquez hide was The Persecussion of Kings and Henry Wyatt had been killed on King Street. The doll at Henry Wyatt's hide was called The Fall from Grace. We just had to try to work out which of the many places with 'Grace' in the name was the location for the next attack. Before we could even begin, though, all the phones in the bullpen rang at once. We were too late. There'd been another shooting.

Castle and I headed out to the scene. I was struggling again. The noise, the people, everything was a blur. I managed to focus back on Castle who was about to enter the building, Grace Point Tower. We met a paramedic pushing a gurney with a shooting victim, Emily Rees. Thankfully, it appeared she was not seriously wounded and was the only casualty but she was in a panicked state. Sadly, so was I. I tried to question her but she could only respond with terrified questions of her own,

"Why me? What did I do? Why is somebody trying to kill me?"

The more she panicked, the worse I was. She was terrified of going outside, convinced the guy was still there, waiting. All of a sudden, I had to get away. I had to be on my own because I could tell I was about to lose it completely and I really did not want that to happen in public. I ushered the paramedic away with Emily and ran. I saw a door marked Employees Only and knew that was my best chance of privacy. I was vaguely aware of Castle's voice calling after me but I really didn't want him to see me like this. I was gasping back the tears as I pulled off my gloves and jacket. I flung them on the floor, together with my badge and gun, leaned against the wall for a moment and then the tears came. As I sank to my knees, I knew I couldn't do this anymore. This was it. Kate Beckett had lost. Game over.

Eventually I managed to drag myself back to the precinct because I had nowhere else to go. I couldn't go back to the empty apartment, I was afraid that I'd fall into the bottle again and much though I didn't want anybody to see me falling apart, I knew I couldn't be alone. Maybe, if I could just get on with my job, I could get through this. I walked into the bullpen, head down, hoping that my entrance would go unnoticed. But Javi noticed and told me to follow him. I didn't know why, but we headed to the Evidence Room.

He said he wanted to show me something. That something turned out to be a rifle, the sniper rifle that shot me. I could barely look at it. What the hell was he doing? I made a vague attempt to pull rank but I was rapidly losing any semblance of control I may have had. I couldn't believe my friend was torturing me like this. He told me he knew what I was going through. I was just about to fling that back in his face when it began to dawn on me. Javier Esposito was a former Marine who had seen plenty of combat. He had returned suffering from PTSD. Maybe he really did know what I was going through.

He talked to me in his quiet way about the gun and the guy who used it. He said that just like every other bad guy, my sniper and this current one were damaged goods. That hit home and I was finally able to admit to my problem,

"So am I."

He told me that that was okay; it wasn't a weakness, it could be a strength; it was a part of me so I had to accept it and use it to my advantage. As the tears rolled down my face, I slowly stepped towards the rifle and took it in my trembling hands. Javi's eyes were so full of compassion, I don't think, in all the years I've known him, I've ever seen him like that. I nodded my head to him very slightly and he left me alone. I think it was at that moment that I saw the first glimmer of light and I will be forever in his debt. He may just have saved my life in that room.

I decided to act on Espo's advice and went to the building where the sniper shot Henry Wyatt from, taking the rifle with me. Maybe if I could get into the mind of the shooter, I'd be able to get some sort of lead. I looked through the scope and wondered why it was he'd shot from the room when that made the target more difficult; there was a tree in the way for Christ's sake. I went out onto the roof then. Surely that would have made the shot easier. I started to climb the ladder when my surgery scar suddenly pulled, sending a sharp pain right through my body. There was no way I was getting up to that rooftop. And in that moment, the answer came and kicked me in the ass. He couldn't climb up there any more than I could. The film I'd watched over and over again of him planting the wind gauge, he was limping in it. He had a physical disability that prevented him from climbing to the roof.

I called in to find that Ryan, Esposito and Castle had gone to a coffee shop nearby after finding a possible new lead so I joined them. I told them what I'd discovered and the coffee shop owner was then able to identify the sniper as a homeless guy who he thought may well have a prosthetic leg. With that information we headed back to the precinct and reduced our suspect list of over two hundred down to just three. Once we had the sketch artist's drawing from the coffee shop owner's description, we had our man, Lee Travis.

It was strange how I was now able to fully focus on the case. I felt as though I'd been injected with some form of adrenalin which had spurred me into action. I was back firing on all cylinders; well maybe not quite all but more, anyway.

Castle and I interviewed Travis's sister. It appeared that Lee was left disillusioned by life after losing his leg and leaving the army. One thing she said hit me like a sledgehammer,

"You can't give help if someone won't take it."

I noticed Castle glance at me, our thoughts, as always, in synch, neither of us thinking about Lee Travis at that moment but someone much closer. We continued with the interview but the only useful information was a description of the car Travis was using. She asked us not to hurt him. I couldn't make that promise; didn't want to, if I'm honest.

Next, Castle and I headed to the third hide, the place he'd shot Emily Rees from. We had to find the paper doll. It was the only way to prevent us having yet another victim. Or victims, as it turned out. Castle found the doll, only this time it was a string of dolls. He planned a multiple shooting.

Travis's car had been found but although he'd left some ammunition the rifle was missing. He was out there, somewhere, planning his next attack and we had no clue where that would be and time was clearly running out. Just as we were beginning to despair, Castle ran into the bullpen. He'd been looking into the painting from which the row of paper dolls had been cut and had managed to identify it as Lions in the Meadow. That led us to Central Park. I headed out to the Park with Esposito while Ryan and Castle stayed at the precinct to try to narrow down our search.

We got the information we needed while we were en route and were left with two buildings to search. He was only going to shoot from a high vantage point so that reduced our search area to all floors above the twentieth. We didn't have enough manpower to search in teams so I ended up alone on the twenty fourth floor where I found an open door, suite 2421. I reported that I was going in and entered carefully and quietly. Looking round the suite, I saw the open door. As I glanced through, I could see a photograph of a school bus, his target no doubt, and the barrel of the rifle. This was it. I burst through the door with the usual warning shout to be greeted by a seemingly empty room but before I could process anything, I was smashed in the face by an elbow. As I sprawled across the floor, I lost my gun and before I knew it, I was sitting there, looking up into the barrel of a hand gun.

I knew my only chance was to talk him down. My mind went back to what Javi said to me about damaged goods. Lee Travis was damaged goods and so was I, so, come on, Kate, use it to your advantage. Hell, I even showed him my scar. I really thought I'd got to him for a moment when I said we had too much in common to be enemies but then he said,

"No, we don't."

That was it. He was going to pull the trigger and my life would be over this time. He raised the gun again, was good enough to apologise and then ...a shot rang out but I felt no pain. Travis was down, dead. I looked out of the window and there was Javier Esposito on the opposite rooftop. He'd saved my life again. I was fast owing that man a hell of a lot.

Back at the precinct we wound the case up. I found Castle sitting in his usual spot by my desk looking unusually pensive. When I asked him what he was doing, his reply was curious,

"Just waiting for my partner."

Like I said, curious.

"Maybe you've seen her. Pretty girl,"

Yeah, okay, so that was sweet,

"Thinks she can leap tall buildings in a single bound; carries the weight of the world on her shoulders,"

What the hell? Okay, so that may be true.

"But still manages to laugh at some of my jokes."

Well, _some_ of them are occasionally funny, Castle. But all I said was,

"She sounds like a handful," and, put like that, I guess I am.

Castle obviously thinks so,

"Tell me about it," he replied.

"Anyway, if you do see her, tell her she owes me about a hundred coffees."

Fair comment, I can live with that debt. I had to thank him, then, though and he seemed genuinely confused; so I explained,

"For not pushing; giving me the space to get through this."

Then he said it; the word I'd not heard for so long; the word that means so much; the word I'd craved,

"Always."

And just like that, the light at the end of the tunnel grew far, far brighter.

I've been to see Dr. Burke today; a scheduled appointment this time, so no need to cause chaos in reception. He asked how I felt now Lee Travis was dead and the sniper case over. I'd thought my PTSD, which, yes I have now accepted, was a result of my shooting but now I've realised it began so much longer ago; 9th January 1999 to be precise; the moment Detective John Raglan told us my mother was dead. For almost thirteen years I've allowed it to define me, to drive me. But now? Now I understand that in many ways it's an addiction, just like my dad's alcoholism and when I told Javi that I was damaged goods, that was my version of 'My name's Jim and I'm an alcoholic;' the first step on the long road to recovery. Dr. Burke has promised to help me; help me get over the nagging feeling that by letting go, I'm somehow letting my mom down. The time is right, though. I want to be better. I want to be more.

_With that, Kate smiled to herself and put the pen and diary away. The sniper case, brutal as it had been for her, was a major turning point in her life. Finally, after all these years, she was ready to let go. She knew the path would not be easy but she also knew she had good friends who would help her along the way and, above all others, a man patiently waiting for her; a man who loved her; a man who was worth, well, simply everything._

**Please let me know what you think of this. It was such an emotional episode and I found it very hard to get all that across. As for the scene with Esposito and Beckett, that has to be some of the best acting ever and I'm so glad Jon and Stana both won Prism Awards for their performances in this episode.**


	13. 13 Cuffed

**Time to lighten the mood and bring out the handcuffs!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine but it's a pleasure to be able to play with these wonderful characters.**

Chapter 13

Cuffed

_Kate came into her apartment, put her motorcycle helmet down, hung her coat in the cupboard and collapsed onto the sofa. Well, the last twenty four hours or so had, to say the very least, been interesting and, if she was completely honest, fun. Could being drugged, handcuffed to your partner, locked in a basement and almost eaten by a tiger ever be considered fun? Hell, yes! Kate smiled to herself, this definitely needed recording in her diary. She knew her last couple of entries had been hugely emotional and felt the need to right the balance. Nothing like being handcuffed to Castle to lighten the mood._

The first thing I remember was the feeling of waking from a really deep sleep; gradually clawing my way to reality. It was a slow process. I was comfortable, snuggled up close to a wonderful source of heat. As I opened my eyes, I had to smile; the heat source was Castle and everything just felt so right. Okay so maybe I wasn't quite fully awake at that point. As soon as I was...what the hell? Why am I in bed with Castle? Why do I have no recollection of even getting here? A thousand other questions hammered at my rather dopey brain. I needed to talk to the man himself. He began gradually to stir and in what I have to admit was an extremely sexy voice suggested I shouldn't get up yet but stay in bed. I tried a bit harder to wake him properly. He opened those gorgeous blue eyes of his, smiled and said hi. This was aggravating to say the least.

I'd realised my left hand was attached to Castle's left hand with what looked suspiciously like my police cuffs. If Castle had done this I was seriously going to shoot him. As it was, though, Castle was safe because firstly I didn't have my gun (or badge or phone or watch or anything else remotely useful) and it quickly became evident that someone else was responsible for our predicament. We looked around and I have to say the place was pretty intimidating even in the dark, or maybe especially in the dark. Neither of us could remember what had happened, in fact the recent past was a bit of a blur. We had to have been drugged. I was aware of a spot around my lower back that was sore and asked Castle to lift my shirt. What was I thinking? My only excuse is that I had just been in a drug-induced stupor. Needless to say, he complied with enthusiasm. Upon examination, though, there was a needle mark. For a moment my heart stopped and my breath caught in my throat as Castle tenderly caressed my back; my imagination ran wild, naked bodies wrapped together, touching, exploring; or is that just now as I write this down. Focus, Kate!

I hastily brought us out of the moment and prompted a discussion about what we could recall of earlier events. We'd been at a seedy motel that rents rooms by the hour. Great, that helped so much. Then we got it. We were there about a dead body, an unidentified male with his fingerprints burned off.

I wanted to get up, move around and find out a bit more about the room we were in but I was soon to discover that being handcuffed to Castle did not make that an easy task and he had the audacity to accuse _me_ of being difficult. Trying to recall events, it appeared Castle needed to go through everything in chronological order and I mean everything, relevant or not. We remembered the postal bar code which had led us to a house in Queens. We'd gone there and found a seemingly empty property. Then we'd heard a noise almost immediately followed by a faint voice,

"Help me!"

I'd led the way into a room where we were horrified to discover an old woman sitting in a cage. That was it; that was all we had. We got into an argument, then. Castle seemed to resent the fact that, as the cop, I'm the one that tends to lead us everywhere. Well, naturally, I'm the one with the gun. Although maybe I could let him go into the occasional elevator first; I'll consider it, anyway. One thing this taught me, Castle's cranky in the morning. I let him have his way and lead for once so I didn't have to put up with a full-blown Castle sulk but Castle, ever the gentleman, simply asked me where I wanted to go. Gotta love the guy!

We found a light switch but once illuminated, the room showed no improvement although, I suppose we could at least now see how bad our situation was. The door was steel, so no way through there; the walls were cinder block. Beyond the mattress, we then saw a large chest freezer. Castle, naturally, began with the wild speculations. I, on the other hand, just wanted to know if it contained anything useful, anything that would help us get the hell out of there. I reckoned we'd been out of it for a couple of hours because I was hungry. Castle offered me some beef jerky but I'd have to be pretty damned starving before I resorted to that. I'd hoped that Martha and Alexis would have realised Castle was missing by now but he said they were on a tour of colleges so they were going to be no help. Finally, I spotted a hatch high above us. There would be no way we could reach it unless we were able to stand on something pretty large and there it was, staring us in the face, the freezer.

That was all well and good but the freezer was in totally the wrong place and when we tried to move it we discovered that it was way heavier than the little old lady whose body we'd considered might have been in there. We pushed at it, tried to use the wall as leverage, all to no avail. We couldn't get at the right angle so Castle came up behind me to help, his lower body way closer to my ass than would normally be acceptable. I told him that he'd better not be enjoying it; fact is, I was thoroughly enjoying the sensation and, after a moment, I was very well aware that, in spite of my warning, so was he.

We couldn't shift it, though. Castle was convinced he could open the combination lock. He'd studied with an expert safe-cracker when writing Storm Rising. Of course, he had, why should I be surprised. I settled at his side, against the freezer, while he worked on the lock. Now patience is not usually Castle's strong suit but in this instance, mine wore out first. He'd been at it for ages and getting nowhere. My left arm was pulled across my throat and my shoulder was aching. I'd had enough. He gave me my hand back so I could relax for a bit while we discussed our predicament. Even the ever-optimistic Castle was struggling to come up with a happy ending but as soon as he realised that I was beginning to lose hope, he reminded me that they guys at the precinct would be looking for us by then. That was enough for me so I figured it was time for Castle to get cracking again. It's really strange how I seem to be picking up Castle's habits, including coming out with terrible puns!

Well, what do you know, he actually did it. He opened the lock. I think he was as surprised as I was when he pulled down and it clicked open. The next question was, did we really want to know what was in there? If we wanted to move it, we needed to empty it and in order to empty it, we'd just have to suck it up and open the damned thing. We'd both seen plenty of dead bodies and countless gruesome sights, how bad could it be?

As it turned out, pretty bad. Not gruesome, bad, just hellishly scary, bad!

The body of the freezer was packed with chains and manacles, while the inside of the lid held a vast array of bloodstained knives. Frankly, it looked like a torturer's tool box and served as great motivation to get the hell out of there.

Once we'd emptied the freezer and moved it into place below the hatch, it was obvious that we'd still have to get creative but we'd been in this same situation not long ago during the Ghostbusters case. (Yeah, I know it was Ghost Wranglers but that's just how I think of it!) As I suggested climbing on Castle's shoulders, he didn't appear too impressed with the prospect and pointed out that we'd not been handcuffed together the last time. Well, okay, so that did create an added complication but I was confident. He wasn't overly impressed by my footwear, either; last time I'd been wearing sneakers and, yes, this time I had on a pair of my favourite heeled boots. I really don't know what his problem was, he only need to ask me to take them off. As it turned out, taking a pair of boots off while handcuffed to another person, is not easy and I needed Castle's assistance which led to more fantasizing on his part, of course; the thought of Castle lifting my shirt and taking off my boots may just have been creating fantasies of my own as well, but I'll always deny it if asked!

Okay, now the first time I tried getting up on his shoulders was an unmitigated disaster. We had to find an easier way. I thought if I tried it from behind, that might work better. I really must think before I open my big mouth around Castle – oh, God, even that sounded wrong – because, naturally, he manages to find sexual innuendo in what I intend to be perfectly innocent comments. Maybe my comments are not always so innocent, but in this particular case, it was.

The second attempt proved much more successful and I managed to reach the hatch with my fingertips, just enough to realise that it was actually unlocked. Unfortunately, at that precise moment, the hatch opened, which was enough to upset our precarious balancing act and, before we knew it, we were both flat on our backs on the floor having, very luckily landed on the mattress. We stared up at the man who was, I guess, our jailer but he just looked down at us and grinned. The bastard grinned.

Castle tried to use one of the knives to cut through the cuffs but that was a none-starter, NYPD cuffs are only designed to be opened with a key, they'd be pretty damned useless otherwise. I was more than a little perturbed when he suggested cutting my hand off, hopefully he wasn't serious. What the hell? He'd better not have been.

At that point, we heard footsteps and voices beyond the door. As we listened intently, we could tell someone was speaking what sounded like Arabic, or some similar language. They seemed to be talking as though they were trying to do a deal to sell something or someone. That was it! They were human traffickers. It appeared they had someone else in the next room, a young girl by the sound of it and I felt an urgent need to help her; to let her know that we were there and that she was not alone in her ordeal.

Once the traffickers had left, I tapped on the wall, trying to attract the attention of the girl. While doing so, some of the brickwork fell away and revealed stucco tile. Now that was something we might be able to break through. Castle was dubious about the benefit of breaking from one prison to another but when I asked him what he'd do if it was Alexis on the other side, he was with me one hundred percent. We started attacking the wall.

Having worked with knives for a while, we figured we'd be able to make better progress with our feet. Castle and I have always worked well as a team and this was no exception. After a few minutes concentrated kicking, we broke through. Castle gave me yet another moment of sheer pleasure when he told me he'd always liked my legs and now he respected them. Come on, it's a great feeling when the guy you're in love with tells you he likes your legs. I made a joke about doing the three-legged race at the next police picnic which he was very quick to agree to, what a surprise!

We got no response from the next room so Castle, after checking if I wanted to go first, an offer I was willing to decline for once, managed to get his head through the hole we'd made. Then disaster struck. He backed out of the hole quicker than I've ever seen him move before, leaving me a clear view of the problem – a fully grown, extremely hungry-looking tiger. Yep, that's it, a tiger.

So there we were, we'd just made a hole into the next cell which we now discovered held a tiger. At least the hole wasn't tiger-sized. Or so we thought. As it turned out, a hungry tiger can make a hole tiger-sized pretty quickly. At least we now knew what was going on, not human trafficking but trafficking in endangered species. Sometimes answers are not particularly helpful to the situation and this was a case in point. We now do know that tigers like beef jerky. Castle threw the jerky into the other room to try to buy us some time. It worked – for about five seconds.

Yes, I admit it, I was terrified. I can face down an armed villain with no problem but this, this was beyond scary. We tried to push the freezer across to block the hole but there was no way we could get it there in time. We needed another option. I'll give Castle his due, he was very cool under pressure and also very protective. I appreciated that. His final plan, though? It did buy us a little more time at least. We managed to man-handle the freezer onto its end and climb on top just as the tiger made it into the room. I'm still not quite sure how we found the strength to do that but it's amazing what an incentive imminent death can be.

The tiger seemed to be enjoying the game but we knew it wouldn't be long before hunger took over; nor would it take the cat long to topple the freezer once it decided to do so. We had one option left. We screamed for help as loud as we possibly could. Suddenly, the hatch opened and I have never been happier to see Ryan and Esposito. However, as quickly as they noticed our predicament, the hatch slammed shut again. We had no idea what had just happened but it appeared that rescue was not immediately to hand after all. The situation was now desperate. Castle was holding my hand so tightly. He was out of ideas but I had not survived a bullet to the heart to be eaten by a tiger.

Just as the tiger gave its final leap to knock over our refuge, we grabbed for the bars just above our heads and by the time Ryan opened the hatch again, we were hanging, like a couple of monkeys fifteen feet above the prowling beast. The boys helped us out and we watched as the traffickers were rounded up by Gates and the back-up officers. The ordeal was over but not quite the story.

Back at the precinct, Agent Martinez debriefed us about the case, after which it was finally time to go home but not before Castle and I had a very interesting conversation. I am certain Castle said,

"After that experience, if I ever have to be hitched to someone, it would be you."

Now there's an interesting thought. Naturally, he tried to backtrack, deny that was what he'd said, but I know what I heard and I can't say the idea doesn't have its merits. I had the perfect comeback, though. After all, I've always known how to tease Castle.

"For what it's worth, if I ever have to spend another night handcuffed to someone again I wouldn't mind if it was you, either."

That was okay as far as it went but I just had to add the next comment,

"The next time, let's do it without the tiger."

As I walked away, I heard Castle say,

"Next time?"

My implication was slowly permeating. I gave him my best enigmatic look, trying desperately not to laugh although, truth be told, I wasn't actually joking.

_Kate put the diary down and grinned as she suddenly had a very vivid picture in her mind which involved a certain ruggedly handsome writer, a damaged but rapidly healing NYPD detective, a bed, a set of handcuffs and very few clothes. She headed for the bathroom and a shower, a very cold shower._


	14. 14 'Til Death Do Us Part

**Here's the next instalment. Hope you continue to enjoy Kate's view of Season 4.**

**Thanks to those of you who've reviewed, I love to hear from you.**

**Disclaimer: Castle does not belong to me but to ABC & the genius that is Andrew Marlowe.**

Chapter 14

'Til Death Do Us Part

_Kate had had a very hectic week at work. Their caseload wasn't too bad but they were a man down. Kevin Ryan was on his honeymoon. As she cast her mind back to the previous Sunday, she smiled. Ryan and Jenny had looked so happy and their happiness seemed to be contagious. The more she thought about it, the more she decided that it would be a good idea to record the events of that day and the days immediately leading up to it because she had a suspicion that, at some future date, those few days would prove to have been a major turning point in her life._

I've never seen Kevin looking so happy. He was grinning from ear to ear; not a bit, the nervous bridegroom but a man who couldn't wait to commit himself to the love of his life. A few days earlier, however, things were a little different.

He and Jenny had decided to do a 'cleanse' before their wedding; nothing but water and lime juice. The morning we got the case, Ryan had 'forgotten' his bottle of green slime but Jenny, the ever-caring fiancée, had brought it in for him. They really are so cute together; Kevin said 'nauseating' but no, cute is the right word. I remember the day he proposed. Castle had suggested all these extravagant locations but as it turned out, he asked her to marry him in this very precinct, in front of all his fellow officers (and the screen version of me, sorry Nikki Heat, Natalie Rhodes, but the less said about her, the better). I confess, yes, I had more than a few tears in my eyes and I rather think our resident writer might just have had to wipe the odd one from his eyes, too.

The cleanse didn't seem to be doing Ryan very much good, though. It probably didn't help that his partner had decided that eating donuts right in his face was an entertaining pastime. Castle and I had to break them apart when Ryan finally snapped. We tried to persuade him to drop it but he was determined to see it through. Eventually, however, we managed to get him to eat. We were having a working lunch with boxes and boxes of every Chinese food you could think of (courtesy of Castle, needless to say) when Ryan came in. He took one look at the table and decided to work at his desk. That was it, I'd had enough. I told him it was time to eat; he had the posture of a feral cat. It was the moo shu pork that finally did it and once he started, there was no stopping him. I'm sure Jenny preferred a bridegroom with food inside him rather than the hyper-sensitive guy we'd been working with all week. She seemed happy on the day so it worked out in the end.

At one point, though, we were really worried the wedding wasn't even going to take place.

The case we were working on involved a guy who'd been poisoned and fell, naked, out of an eighth floor window onto a fruit stall. Yeah, I know, messy! The man's life was proving somewhat of a mystery; even I thought we might be dealing with an intelligence operative of some kind; Castle thought he must be Jason Bourne. He had two identities. His name was actually Michael Bailey but he appeared to have been living as Jake Hendricks for at least the last month and his cover id was very convincing. He also had a James Bond-like effect on women. We found a roomful of beautiful women who all claimed to have thought they were his 'one and only'. Who the hell was this guy? He appeared to have a very junior position at Global Twelfth Consolidated and, frankly, I couldn't see the attraction but I guess it takes all sorts.

The truth about the women, as it turned out, was laughable. Bailey and his two mates, Max and Pablo, were a crew; a crew of pick-up artists. When we interviewed them, they explained in great detail how they worked. I must say, it made me wonder what the hell these women were thinking. Pablo even tried it on with me,

"You have some beautiful eyes," was his line.

Seriously, what was that about? Did that really work? As it turned out, no; apparently ninety per cent of the time it fails, which did at least restore my faith in my gender a little. One piece of information we did acquire was that Bailey had kept a ledger in which he recorded all his 'conquests'. That ledger was the thing that we feared would stop the wedding. Castle was browsing through it, fascinated by the photographs of hundreds of women with nicknames, dates and details of the pick-ups. He suddenly stopped, looked very concerned and asked me when Ryan and Jenny started dating. As I recalled, it was around Easter, April 2009. His face fell as he showed me Bailey's entry for May 20th 2009 – Gyrating Jenny.

Castle was certain we needed to tell Ryan. I was equally certain that we shouldn't and that began a very interesting conversation between the two of us. I think my brain must have switched off because I'm not quite sure why this came out of my mouth but my question was,

"Castle, if we were getting married would you want to know about all the guys I've slept with?"

Wait, if we were getting married? Like I said, my brain and mouth didn't seem to be communicating too well but Castle was more concerned about my use of the word 'all'. I couldn't quite believe he had a problem with that after all wasn't he the hotshot, playboy, multi-millionaire writer who signed women's chests at book readings? Could he really be thinking I was a virgin? Surely not? Or was he just hoping, had he put me on some strange, virginal pedestal? But he was still fixated on the word 'all'.

"It's just the word 'all' suggests a lot. How many are we talking, exactly?"

I couldn't quite believe where this conversation was heading but it was turning very entertaining and I had a wry smile as I asked,

"Are you really asking for my number?"

I'd anticipated Castle backing down at that point but I should have known better,

"You show me yours, I'll show you mine."

Now that I did not want to know. I know Castle must have had plenty of women in his time, he's been married twice for a start, but it's something I try not to think about because, honestly, it hurts. Yes, I admit it, it makes me jealous. I couldn't let him see how the thought was affecting me so I knew I had to bring this conversation to a close.

"Men, you all wanna know but you don't wanna know." Yeah, not just men, I accept that. "Listen, every woman has her secrets including Jenny and sometimes, for the sake of a relationship, it's better not to share."

Hope you were listening there, Castle because I wasn't just talking about Jenny and Ryan.

As it turned out, we needn't have worried because Jenny had already told Ryan that she'd been with Bailey after they'd started going out but as they hadn't been exclusive at the time, he wasn't in the least concerned about it. To say we were relieved would be a massive understatement!

The days before the wedding proved to be a major hassle for Esposito. It had been a couple of months since he and Lanie had gone their separate ways but he was horrified to discover that she was bringing a plus one to the event and he spent the next few days trying desperately to find a plus one of his own while also trying to find out who Lanie was taking. I admit to a totally unexpected feeling of jealousy when Ryan mentioned that Castle had also replied with a plus one and when Castle described his date as 'beautiful, intelligent, funny and they way she smiles melts my heart', I suddenly felt slightly nauseous. Thankfully, he went on to say that his date was Alexis. The feeling of relief hit me hard; Alexis, the only woman I'm happy with him talking about that way, unless it was me, of course. Whoa, Kate, calm down! As it turned out, Alexis had a better offer for the day of the wedding, a private Lady Gaga concert with a young man she'd met while shopping with Martha so Castle was left on his own after all.

The case was tied up neatly before the big day. As it turned out, Bailey was into corporate espionage not the James Bond type and he simply got caught out by the wrong woman.

I'd spent hours wandering round the shops with Lanie trying to find the right dress to wear for the wedding. I'd not been to a wedding for quite a few years, excluding Castle's former girlfriend Kyra Blaine's and that didn't really count as we were only invited after solving the murder of the chief bridesmaid and I wanted this to be special. Kevin Ryan is like a brother to me and it just felt as though it was a family wedding. Yes, okay, I admit it, I wanted to look great because Castle was going to be there and I really hoped we'd get some time to dance together at the party.

When he arrived, he looked like a lost puppy, abandoned by his owner. He appeared to be on his own and that was when I learned that for Alexis going to a concert with a teenage boy trumped going to a wedding with her old man. I couldn't help myself then and suggested we could be each other's plus one. Castle jumped at the idea but I was a bit put out by his suggestion that it was the only way to avoid the stigma of the singles table. Hang on a minute, Castle, I've practically asked you to be my date at the wedding and you're only accepting to avoid humiliation? So not cool!

We had a brief word with the bouncing Ryan and Castle told him that he was a lucky man which, knowing Castle's track record when it comes to marriage, surprised me but after Kevin had gone into the church, he surprised me even more when he said,

"You know, I gotta say, I kinda envy him."

Did that really mean he could possibly be open to the idea of getting married again? I'd always assumed and to a considerable extent had been led to believe that Castle was done with the institution. Why does that bother me? Well, I guess every girl has her dreams, even Detective Kate Beckett. I've been a bridesmaid six times and I've always sworn that the next time I'm in the bridal party, I'll be the one in the white dress and maybe, just maybe, I've spent the occasional night dreaming about that day and the tall, ruggedly handsome groom waiting for me at the altar. Oh God, I'm such a sap! Anyway, my reply?

"Well, who knows, Castle, maybe third time's a charm."

"Yeah, could be," he said with a thoughtful smile, "Shall we?" with which he took my arm and led me down the aisle to our places.

I got my wish that evening. In fact, I got far more than I ever dreamed possible. With the exception of one dance with the groom and one with Esposito when I managed to prise him out of Lanie's arms for a few minutes, I spent the whole evening in Castle's arms, dancing the night away. That night, asleep in my bed, the dreams just kept on coming!

_Ryan's wedding had awoken so many long-forgotten feelings for Kate. She put the diary aside and thought about them again. Her life was changing; she was changing and for the better, she knew that. She still had a long way to go but she was on the right track now. She wasn't certain of the final destination but she did know that more than anything else, she wanted Castle there on the journey with her._


	15. 15 Dial M for Mayor

**And here's today's second offering.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine at all**

Chapter 15

Dial M for Mayor

_Kate had spent the last hour or so looking back over her diary. She found it hard to believe just how open and honest she had been. When Dr. Burke had originally suggested the exercise, she hadn't thought it would have the slightest chance of helping but now, reading her entries over the last four months, she knew for certain that it was. Not only was she able to give a voice to her feelings in the diary but she also felt there had been a few occasions when she had actually been far more open in her everyday life. She had made very little effort to disguise her jealousy towards Serena Kaye; she knew that her face was an open book to anyone who happened to have looked in her direction when the explosion blew apart the bank and, frankly, had Martha not interrupted her when she found the hostages alive and well in the vault, she was very well aware of the fact that she was on the verge of publically locking lips with Castle._

_Now she knew the diary was a part of her regular routine after a case. Once the paperwork was out of the way, she would go home, grab a plate of food and a glass of wine, sit down on the sofa and lose herself to her writing._

I hate failure. I take it very personally when we can't close a case. Okay, so maybe it's not my fault, sometimes a case just hits a brick wall and without anything more to go on there's nothing we can do except neatly box it all up in a cold case file. But it sucks. This last case was a perfect example only this one was more personal because the prime suspect was none other than Mayor Robert Wheldon, one of Castle's very best friends and the reason he's there working at the precinct; the reason I have Castle as my partner. As it turned out, the mayor was being set up but for a while, I was facing the distinct possibility that I was going to lose my partner because if Wheldon was guilty, there was no way on God's earth that Gates was going to allow Castle to continue to shadow me at the precinct.

The victim was a 28 year old woman, Laura Cambridge. She was found dead in a car which, upon investigation we discovered, belonged to the car pool at City Hall and had last been used by Mayor Wheldon.

Castle and I went to City Hall to talk to him. I'd met the mayor a few times and had always liked him; I was more than a little flattered to find out that evidently Castle sings my praises at their regular poker nights. Yes, Castle, flattery will get you everywhere; well, maybe not everywhere, but it certainly helps!

The Mayor didn't seem to recognise the victim and was very willing to help us with our investigation. He'd been at a fund raiser the previous evening, the night of the murder, which he told us, off the record, was related to him considering a run at the Governor's office.

Castle then went off with Wheldon while I spoke to his chief of staff, Brian Shay. That guy was a typical political operator who thinks everybody will just accept their will. Well, I'm sorry, but I had my own job to do and I was going to do it my way and not just accept everything Mr Chief of Staff said as gospel. To say I didn't like the guy would be an understatement but, to be fair, his job was to protect Mayor Wheldon and his reputation and he made it quite clear that was his priority.

Back at the precinct, Castle and I discussed the possible political repercussions of this case becoming public knowledge without City Hall being ready with an adequate response. I felt that the best way would be for them to leave me to do my job but as Castle pointed out, these were politicians we were dealing with and,

"They can't order at a restaurant without two compromises and an ultimatum!"

The inevitable happened next; I was called into Gates' office. This was a case with high profile connections and there was never a doubt that she would have her finger firmly on the pulse of my investigation. Naturally, she was also far too quick to point out Castle's friendship with the Mayor and that, as she would not be the only one watching very carefully, my investigation had better be totally above reproach.

After I left the office, Castle, naturally, wanted to know the gist of our conversation and I was horrified to discover that maybe Gates' concerns were actually valid. When it came to Mayor Robert Wheldon, Richard Castle was biased. I shouldn't have been surprised really. One thing I have learned about Castle over the years if that he is fiercely loyal to his friends. About a year ago, he'd been sure that Damien Westlake, his former mentor, had been an innocent man only to have his faith proved wrong. I really hoped history wasn't going to repeat itself because, in Westlake's case, Castle's loyalty was sourced in sentiment for times long past; however, this time it was to be found in his current judgement and knowledge. He would be absolutely crushed if Mayor Wheldon turned out to be a guilty man.

We managed to learn a little more about our victim. Laura Cambridge had been a professor of Literature at Hudson University until six months earlier when she had left her post and begun a series of low-paid, menial jobs. She'd also cancelled her credit cards and cut off her cell phone and none of her former colleagues had any idea why she'd done this. Her apartment gave us no further clues although the landlord gave us a description of a man he'd seen leaving her place the previous evening, six feet tall, dark hair, Caucasian.

Her sister was able to add little more to the facts we already knew, except that, when she had spoken to Laura three days earlier, she'd been scared; something had happened at work but she refused to go into any more details, saying it was safer for her if she didn't know. We had to find Laura's last place of employment and when we did, it was an eye-opener.

The mysterious DAG Corporation. Castle and I visited their offices in a building that was undergoing renovation. We had no idea what to expect but, after hearing suspicious voices and breaking down the door, we were confronted by rows of telephone operators. I was about as confused as the women in the office, and more than a little embarrassed by my unnecessarily spectacular entrance,

"What is this place?"

"About $4.99 a minute," replied Castle and, sure enough, there it was, Dial a Goddess.

The Chief Sexecutive Officer, yeah, that was the title on her name plate, Marilyn Kane, was very co-operative and seemed genuinely upset to hear the news about Laura. As far as she was aware, she had not had any trouble at work and had no clue what her sister had been referring to. I couldn't understand why Laura had gone from Literature Professor to phone sex operator and I'm afraid I struggle to get my head round the idea of mums and accountants actually enjoying giving gratification to guys on the phone. I always consider myself to be very open-minded when it comes to sex but that one, well it's beyond me. I can't help but think, though, that Castle knew rather more about phone sex than he was letting on. I'd love to know the story behind that, Castle.

We did at least manage to get a name from Sarah, the dispatcher. Edgar Navarro. Laura had wanted Navarro's contact details. It turned out that she needed Navarro's help to copy some digital recordings from a hard drive because she'd heard something on a call that she wasn't supposed to hear. We returned to the DAG offices but we were too late, the hard drive had been stolen by a guy posing as a gas man; six feet tall, dark hair, white, sounded very much like the same guy who'd been seen at Laura's apartment.

We had leads now and we were able to follow Laura's trail to a TV station where she'd spent hours at a monitor, watching videos of events attended by Mayor Wheldon including one attended by Laura herself; he'd denied knowing her. The finger of suspicion was well and truly pointing at Castle's friend. According to her book agent, Laura had stumbled upon a scandal involving a prominent New Yorker; more evidence against him. Lanie had found fibres on Laura's body from a light brown cashmere coat; the mayor was wearing one on one of the videos Laura had watched. We needed that coat; it could make or break our case.

Castle pleaded with me not to move against the mayor; he was still certain of his innocence. Gates asked for an update. I was so torn; I should have given her all the information we had but it felt as though to do so would be a betrayal of Castle's trust in me. I lied. I told Gates we had a couple of leads but had yet to follow them up. For a moment, Castle was grateful but I knew we had to move on the evidence even without Gates' knowledge and I had to do it without Castle. I didn't want to send him home but I had no choice; he could not be objective.

Our next discovery seemed to put yet another nail in the coffin of the career of Mayor Wheldon. The Attorney General's Office confirmed that he was under investigation for embezzling funds, $2.3million, from his Reading Train Foundation charity. Now I had no choice, I had to go to Gates. That was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I knew the consequences; Wheldon's career would be over; Castle would be gone. I did not want to do it but I'm a cop, I can't pick and choose who's guilty and who isn't. Laura Cambridge had been murdered and she deserved justice whether it was convenient for me or not.

The meeting with Gates proved to be very interesting. She actually seemed to appreciate the difficult situation I found myself in and, after even going as far as to divulge some personal information about her background, she suggested I go to the Mayor and ask him to give us his coat voluntarily as the only way to avoid it becoming a matter of public record but added that, should he refuse, I was to get the warrant and do my job.

As I was leaving, Castle appeared. He'd thought about everything I'd said and was prepared to be objective because, as he said, he didn't think he was guilty but if he had done it, he wanted to know. I knew that he was absolutely sincere and maybe he could tell if Wheldon was bluffing so I relented. When all's said and done, I much preferred having my partner by my side than facing a potentially explosive situation alone.

Mayor Wheldon was willing to talk to us and when I showed him the photograph of Laura at the Reading Train event, he admitted that, in context, he did recognise her; that she'd tried to talk to him but circumstances had prevented the conversation occurring. However, when I brought up the subject of the coat, the atmosphere turned decidedly chilly. He flatly refused. Castle tried to persuade him, saying it could only help his cause but he was not going to change his mind. He denied, yet again, having anything to do with Laura's murder and also denied embezzling the funds and anything else he'd been accused of in the previous forty eight hours. He was certain that he was the victim of a conspiracy to prevent his run for Governor and was not willing to feed it.

Castle certainly bought Wheldon's story but I wasn't so sure. Yes, Castle knew Wheldon but that worked the other way round, too. Wheldon would know just how to yank Castle's chain. I tried to point this out to him but he wouldn't accept that maybe he was being played. He was desperate for me to hold off and wait before getting a subpoena for the coat but I couldn't wait and give it chance to disappear. Could he see in my eyes just how hard this was for me? Castle can read me like a book most of the time, I prayed this was one such occasion. I walked away, leaving him standing there. I worried that that was it; was our partnership over? Was that the end of any chance we might have of a relationship in the future? I sure hoped not but I couldn't help but feel I had just betrayed the man I love by putting my job first. I had no choice but that didn't make it any easier.

Wheldon pleaded his innocence publically at a press conference, claiming to be fully co-operating with the investigation. To a certain extent, I suppose he was but why wouldn't he just give us his coat if he was as innocent as he claimed. While I was still pondering this, I was surprised and more than a little relieved to get a phone call from Castle, asking me to meet him at the Dial a Goddess offices. I confess to breaking the odd speed limit to get there but I needed to know where we stood. Did this mean he was willing to overlook my stance on Wheldon?

He was waiting for me and as I approached, I could tell he was apprehensive. He thanked me for coming, like there was any chance I wouldn't but it seemed he wasn't aware of that. I wouldn't apologise for doing my job and, as it turned out, he had no intention of asking me to do so. My sense of relief must have almost been tangible.

Castle then proceeded to crack the case wide open. Laura had been trying to identify the voice she'd heard on the phone when she was at the TV station. Sarah, the dispatcher, had been listening to the tapes and confirmed for us that the caller had been Jordan Norris, Deputy Assistant to the Mayor's Chief of Staff.

It didn't take us very long to confirm that Norris was indeed a regular caller to the Dial a Goddess service and that it was he who had given details of the Mayor's charity accounts to an unknown person who had then made it look as though he was embezzling the funds. He'd thought it had just been about the money but once he realised it was a concerted effort to destroy the mayor's reputation, he'd felt guilty and had confessed everything to Laura during a phone call. But Laura was a writer and she'd just been handed the story of a lifetime so she'd tracked Jordan down and confronted him. He admitted that much but still denied the murder and it didn't take a genius to figure that, frankly he didn't have it in him. He'd simply made another phone call and had put Laura in the crosshairs. We needed to know who he'd called but at that point he clammed up. It was clear he was terrified of the people behind all this and I could see his point. This had been a very well planned and executed operation. It would appear that some pretty powerful forces were involved but we kept pressing. Finally he agreed but just as he was about to divulge the name, a lawyer by the name of Bill Moss burst into the room advising Norris to say no more. We almost had them, damn lawyers!

And that was it. The end of the line as far as our case was concerned. We were able to charge Jordan Norris with criminal facilitation and Mayor Wheldon was cleared of all wrong-doing but Laura's killer was still out there. Where was her justice? The people behind the conspiracy were still out there. This is starting to feel eerily familiar. Maybe that's why it hurts so much. It's too close to home. I couldn't get justice for Laura just like I can't get justice for my mom. I guess, sometimes, life just sucks.

_Kate had been in quite a positive mood when she'd started writing today but now, recalling this case, she'd found her good mood had evaporated somewhat. She checked her watch; it was only ten thirty, not too late. So she picked up her phone,_

"_Hey, Castle! You got a few minutes? Mind if we talk?"_


	16. 16 Episodes 13 & 14

**Strange how things work out but even though this chapter covers 2 episodes, it's still relatively short! Hope you still enjoy it.**

**Thanks to all those who've reviewed so far, I really appreciate you taking the time to do so.**

**Disclaimer: Castle belongs to ABC & Andrew Marlowe & probably a lot of other people but none of them is me.**

Chapter 16

An Embarrassment of Bitches & The Blue Butterfly

_Kate had eagerly anticipated her weekend off. She'd been so busy at work over the last couple of weeks, it made a pleasant change to be able to catch up with the basic household chores, grocery shopping, cleaning her apartment, laundry and then just to spend time relaxing, reading and watching some mindless TV. As she was channel surfing, she came across one of the plethora of reality shows. She normally avoided these shows like the plague but today she paused and allowed herself to ponder. After a few minutes, she went to the drawer and took out her diary. Her last two cases had caused her to think a great deal about just what is real and what fake. Now she needed to get those thoughts down on paper._

When I first came across Richard Castle, I made the mistake of accepting his public persona at face value. He came over as an arrogant jerk and I treated him as such. It didn't take me very long to discover that the public face of Richard Castle was not, in fact, the true picture. The real man is a loving son, totally devoted father, loyal partner and a man who will do anything and everything he possibly can for a friend. I initially pegged him as a selfish jackass but, boy was I wrong. He is completely selfless and seems to have infinite levels of patience. I'm the one who's the selfish jackass. I've put him through so much and he's shown me nothing but love and devotion. I'm still lying to him about the shooting. I want to tell him the truth, that I heard what he said but I'm still not sure I'm ready for the consequences. Sometimes I just think,

_To hell with it, Kate, just take a leap of faith and dive in._

But then, the brain takes over from the heart and I shut myself off again. I know I'm making progress but sometimes I'm terrified that I'm going to take too long; that his patience will wear out before I'm ready.

Anyway, I seem to be rambling here; good, honest thoughts, though, so maybe this is as it should be.

Perceptions of reality and truth were very much at the heart of our last two cases.

First was the murder of well-renowned dog trainer, Francois Pilar; a man who, on the surface, appeared to live a lonely existence with his only real friend being his dog, Royal. It was quite likely true that Pilar got on better with dogs than people but, behind the scenes, he was doing a valuable job for law enforcement. He was training the best drug-sniffing dogs U S Customs have ever had and, ultimately, it was this that got him killed. The success of Pilar-trained dogs was causing a massive loss of revenue to the Vasquez drug cartel and they had him murdered.

That brings me to Kay Cappuccio and Reggie Starr. How the hell does a woman have her own perfume line, an army of paparazzi outside her apartment, millions of twitter followers and dozens of magazine covers, all with no discernible talent to account for it? Here is where I may be guilty of repeating the mistake I made with Castle. Kay Cappuccio's public persona is of a woman who lives to be seen but during the course of this case, it became obvious that the image comes with major drawbacks. It has to be said, the woman would not be winning any prizes for her intellect and in many ways that was actually quite endearing. She really did, genuinely, have no idea what was going on. Esposito was entranced by her but it was he who pointed out to me that, in spite of all her followers and hangers-on, Kay was in fact a lonely woman, imprisoned by her popularity.

One of those hangers-on was her fiancé, Reggie. Although the gossip was that the two of them were getting married in the near future, Reggie knew he was on his way out. As a consequence of this, he was the one who strangled Francois Pilar with a dog leash for the Vasquez cartel, working on the principal that if he was being pushed off one gravy train, maybe he could board another. I considered it very fitting that it was Pilar's dog, Royal, who gave us the clue we needed to nail Reggie.

Oh Royal! I love that dog. Lanie brought him into the precinct after she'd gathered all the forensic evidence from him that she could but then we were left with the question of what to do with him. Castle wanted to keep him as a precinct mascot, which wasn't a bad idea but he could hardly live in the bullpen! I've always loved dogs but have never actually owned one; well, it wouldn't exactly be fair to keep a dog locked up all day in my apartment when I can never be sure when I'm likely to get home. I was just about to volunteer to look after Royal for the night when Castle piped up that he'd take him. My disappointment must have been obvious because Castle saw it immediately. Anyway, the upshot was that we decided to share custody for the night.

When Castle finally appeared with Royal, an hour late, I might add, he was quick to tell me about all they'd done together. I feigned being the strict owner who has no intention of letting the dog have too much freedom but, who was I kidding. Just before Castle left, though, we had a moment; I don't really know how to describe it any other way. Castle was telling me about how Royal loves to be rubbed on his forehead and before I was aware of what was happening, he was giving a demonstration. He took my hand in his and ever so gently began to rub his thumb in small circles on the back. The feeling was electric. I felt as though I'd been struck by lightning. Our eyes met and I knew he was just as affected as I was. I don't think either of us could breathe. Finally, I managed to say his name, although it came out far huskier than I intended, and the spell was broken. I really have no idea what I was going to say but he pulled away and beat a very hasty retreat, leaving me staring at his back as he left. For a brief moment, I just wanted, wanted everything Castle could offer but then I was just left with Royal for company and my own thoughts of what might have been.

A dog's love is unconditional and complete. It seems to me very rare for two humans to find that same, total, true love but in our very next case we met a couple for whom that kind of love was reality.

The second case, the case of the Blue Butterfly began when we were called to investigate a murder at the old Pennybaker Club. The victim was Stan Banks, a treasure hunter who had been on the trail of an infamous piece of jewellery called The Blue Butterfly. As it turned out, the Blue Butterfly was about as real as Kay Capppuccio's TV show, a piece of, albeit very well-crafted, costume jewellery. It's hard to believe just how many lives were destroyed by it. There was a very well-documented history but I have to wonder if a real Blue Butterfly, made with genuine blue diamonds, ever actually existed or if the legend was only ever built around the fake.

Amongst Stan Banks' possessions was an old diary belonging to a private investigator from the forties called Joe Flynn. Castle was, naturally fascinated by it and took it home so he could read it. As it turned out, the diary led us to a tale of gangsters, deceit and a wonderful love story that spanned the years. It also helped us to solve not only the murder of Stan but also an unsolved case from 1947.

The diary told the beginnings of the story of Joe Flynn and Vera Mulqueen. I think Castle allowed his writer's imagination to take over because I'm convinced that he was imagining himself as Joe and me as Vera; I have to wonder who he had playing the rest of the characters! He was telling me about part of the story when he said,

"Kate's heart quickened."

He tried to deny that was what he'd said but I know what I heard and I have to admit, maybe it did, just a little! Oh who am I trying to kid, my heart quickens most of the time I'm around Castle these days.

It appeared from crime reports of 1947 that Joe and Vera had been shot and their bodies burned in Joe's car. The chief suspect was Tom Dempsey, gangster in chief and owner of the Pennybaker Club at the time. However, we discovered that Joe and Vera were indeed alive and well and had spent the last sixty odd years living as Jerry and Viola Maddox.

Joe had been hired by a young girl who claimed she was Vera's sister. She'd come to the city to try to find Vera and heal family wounds. However this story was a load of bull. Her name was Sally Schofield (nee Campbell). Her mother had been Dempsey's mistress before his eye was drawn to Vera. It appeared that the Blue Butterfly was owned by the gangster and worn by whoever was the current flavour of the month. When Priscilla Campbell was dumped in favour of Vera, she took it badly and committed suicide. Sally was out for revenge.

Vera soon realised that being cast as Tom Dempsey's mistress was not a dream role; she discovered she was of no more value to him than the jewellery she wore round her neck, probably less in actual fact. By the time Joe Flynn appeared in her life, she just wanted a way out but could see no means of escape. Their eyes met across the room and that was it for both of them. I find it hard to believe that anyone could possibly fall in love just like that but, as Castle pointed out, those post-war years were a different time; life was precious and not to be wasted, waiting four years for something you both craved would have been considered foolish in the extreme, maybe it still is.

Anyway, Joe and Vera plotted their escape from Dempsey's control and planned to steal the Blue Butterfly to finance their flight. Just as everything fell into place, Sally and her husband, Lenny appeared to exact revenge on Vera and take the necklace as a bonus. However, in the ensuing struggle, Sally accidently shot Lenny and then, as Sally and Vera grappled over the gun, it went off, killing the girl. Joe put their bodies in his car and set it alight, thus enabling them to disappear into the darkness.

I still couldn't understand why they never tried to use the Blue Butterfly but it turned out that Vera decided it was cursed and would have nothing to do with it. Joe wasn't going to leave it for Dempsey to find, so he hid it behind a loose brick in the wall of the club where it remained until Stan Banks retrieved it. Sadly for Stan, the Blue Butterfly still had another victim to claim. Stan had found out about Joe and Vera and threatened to expose them if they didn't tell him where the necklace was, so they did. He collected it but was cornered in the Pennybaker Club by Frank Huntsacker, who worked as a carer for Joe and Vera in order to find the jewel for himself. I really don't think he intended to kill Stan but that's for a jury to decide not me.

Joe and Vera have lived a wonderful life since their meeting in 1947. They had children, grandchildren and now great grandchildren and their love is as strong as it was in the beginning. They were very concerned that I was going to arrest them in connection with the deaths of Sally and Lenny but as far as I'm concerned, they acted in self-defence and there was no way in hell I could even consider ruining their great love story.

Yes, I admit it, I'm a sucker for a good romance and Joe and Vera's story gives me hope, hope that maybe, just maybe, it is possible to find that happy ending.

_Later that night, Kate was dreaming. In her dream, she was dressed in an elegant, golden, 1940's-style gown, standing in front of a burning vehicle in the arms of a tall, ruggedly handsome man, dressed very much as the archetypal 40's P.I.,_

"_Tell me you love me, Rick."_

"_Always."_

_She smiled, took his hand and they headed off into their future together._


	17. 17 Pandora and Linchpin

**Here's the next instalment. I'm still trying to get over watching Target – just how good was that & can I possibly wait a whole week for part 2? Anyway, this one's about last year's 2-parter.**

**Disclaimer: Never has been, isn't & never will be mine, sadly.**

Chapter 17

Pandora & Linchpin

_It was nearly one o'clock in the morning and Kate Beckett had made no attempt to go to bed. She knew sleep would not be happening anytime soon; she'd been far too close to death these last couple of days, within seconds, even, to have any hope of anything that may resemble restful repose. Her mind was working overtime and that had very little to do with her recent case and everything to do with her partner. Maybe the diary would help her make some sense of her conflicted thoughts; it was worth a try, at the very least._

What the hell am I supposed to write about the last couple of days? Actually, that is a very real question. What can I write? I know this diary isn't for anyone else's eyes but, I suppose there is always a possibility it could get stolen or lost and end up in the wrong hands and, much to Castle's delight, this case did really, genuinely involve international plots and the CIA. In fact, we ended up working a case with the CIA and, as such, we were, are and forever will be unable to talk about it. The details will always remain classified but some of it, well, some of it I just need to get off my chest.

It all began normally enough. We were called to a homicide and apart from the fact that the victim had been shot, stabbed, beaten up and then tossed out of a window, a case of overkill in anyone's book, all appeared relatively normal. We even got a lead on the killer very quickly, picked him up, questioned him and put him in holding.

Then things began to unravel. First the body of the victim disappeared from the morgue. Then our suspect disappeared, too. Somehow he managed to get out of the holding cell, steal a police uniform, take the time to access the NYPD database via a computer and then calmly walk straight out the front door! To say Gates was pissed would be a major understatement.

We traced his search and Castle and I went to the address where we found another body but before we could do much else we were suddenly confronted by, well, to be honest, I had no idea who we were confronted by at the time because all I saw was Castle standing there with a black hood pulled over his head before the same thing happened to me. We were bundled into a car and taken – somewhere.

When the hoods were eventually removed, we were in an elevator heading down, way down. The doors opened and we stepped out into a room that would not have been out of place in a futuristic sci-fi movie. We tried to figure out what the hell this place was but even Castle seemed at a loss for words. Then she appeared.

Sophia Turner. Maybe I shouldn't mention her name here but, frankly, I can't really see that it matters anymore. I confess that I disliked the woman on sight. I could claim that it was a cop's gut instinct telling me something was amiss with her but I'd be lying. It had nothing to do with the magical properties of my intestines and everything to do with the fact that it became immediately clear that she and Castle knew each other, had a history of some kind. Even worse than that, she turned out to be Clara Strike, Derrick Storm's CIA buddy and it appeared that Castle had spent a considerable amount of time following her around doing research for the character. Now doesn't that sound familiar. Frankly, yes, I admit it, I was jealous. There I've said it. I was jealous because Castle had had a muse before me and it hurt that he'd never mentioned that fact.

Now that I think about it, though, that sounds damned arrogant. I know perfectly well that Castle does a hell of a lot of detailed research for his books and it stands to reason that, having written more than twenty, he must have followed many people over the years. Why the hell do I think I'm unique? It's just, coming face to face with Clara Strike, well that just sucked. Never mind the fact that she was an arrogant jerk!

After that first meeting, we returned to the precinct to continue our murder investigation but under instructions not to mention anything we'd learnt whilst with the CIA or even the fact that we'd been with them. It was fun being able to tell Gates that we couldn't give her any information about where we'd been but I hated not being able to keep the boys in the loop.

I was concerned that I was going to lose Castle as a partner during this case, that he'd be lured back to Sophia but, just as I thought he'd gone, there he was quietly proclaiming that I was his partner, not Sophia. Maybe he was just more prepared to appear stupid in front of me, with his outlandish theories rather than Sophia but I'll take that any day and, as the case went on, he was there when I most needed him.

I guess Castle and I had four brushes with death during this case. The first occurred when we traced a car to a long-term parking garage near Newark airport in New Jersey. The car was a 1967 Pontiac GTO, a genuine American muscle car. It was gorgeous and I had to take a moment to imagine myself behind the wheel, racing round a track. Yes, I'm a speed freak! I admit it. I have always loved fast cars and fast bikes. I'll never forget the evening I got the chance behind the wheel of Castle's Ferrari. What an awesome car!

Anyway, enough of that, back to the story.

It was blatantly obvious that the car hadn't moved in a very long time but we had a set of keys and found some useful evidence in the trunk but before we were able to call it in, we were accosted by none other than our escaped suspect. The guy was incredible. Not only had he managed to walk out of a police station but he also managed to take my gun off me in a move so quick I'm still not exactly sure what happened. Before we knew it, Castle and I were locked in the trunk of the car. Sadly a 1967 Pontiac GTO does not have modern safety features including a latch to open the trunk from the inside, so we were stuck.

Now don't get me wrong, being shut in a very confined space with Castle is not all bad but we did have a time limit because the air was not going to last indefinitely. I was surprised by how well Castle was taking the situation until I realised he'd managed to press the panic button that Sophia had installed on his phone. That was too much for me. There was no way I was just going to wait around to be rescued by her. After a fair amount of groping around, and yes, I do mean that type of groping, I wasn't going to turn that opportunity down, I managed to get my hands on the tyre iron which had been somewhere under Castle's ass. I suspect his protests were rather half-hearted. With that as a tool, I managed to prise the trunk lid open. Sadly, as soon as we had escaped our confines, we were confronted by the guy with the black hoods again and returned to dear Sophia.

Our next brush with death was by far the most terrifying in my book.

Castle and I had picked up a guy who could give us all the information we needed to figure out what the hell was going on and he'd asked us to drive him to the waterfront, before he would tell us what we wanted to know. Once there, he began to tell his story but before he finished, he was spooked by a flock of pigeons, of all things, dashed out of the car only to be gunned down right in front of us. Before we were even able to really process what had just happened, my car was shunted towards the edge of the dock. I tried everything I could but there was no way to avoid the inevitable and in just a few seconds we were trapped in the car which was now plunging into the depths of the Hudson River.

We tried the doors and windows but all to no avail. My knife was in the trunk, my gun appeared to have been dislodged by the impact and I couldn't undo my seatbelt. I was stuck. Castle had managed to at least free his seatbelt and he went in search of my gun which had to be somewhere under the seats. Unfortunately, the car was filling with water very quickly. He went under a couple of times and seemed to have located it but couldn't get at it. He had another go. He disappeared. He was too long. There was no way he could hold his breath that long, was there? Castle was gone. I was out of air. In that moment, I gave up. There was nothing left to fight for. It was all over. I passed out.

The next thing I knew, I was choking, coughing, spluttering, trying to breathe and someone was soothing me, calming me, stroking my hair, telling me I was going to be okay. As everything began to come back to me, there he was. Somehow Castle had managed to get my gun, shoot my seatbelt off me, put a bullet through the window and haul me to the surface. I have no idea how he did it but the evidence speaks for itself; I'm here and I'm alive, case closed.

We weren't given too long to be able to dwell on what had happened though because before we knew it we were hauled off by Sophia back to the CIA, given a lecture and chucked off the case. That was fine by me. I still had three murders to solve and I could manage just as well, if not better, without dear Sophia's interference. But if I thought I'd heard the last from Sophia Turner, I was very sadly mistaken.

Evidently, she paid a visit to Castle's loft claiming that her throwing us off the case had just been a smokescreen and that she really did want our help after all. Damn, I hate spooks!

Anyway, no thanks to Sophia, our solid police work led us to an apartment where Castle and I managed to have our next near-lethal encounter. This time, though, our hides were saved by none other than our escaped suspect. Just before the building was raked by weapons fire and blown apart by grenades, he appeared and led us to the safety of his van.

It certainly hadn't escaped my notice that, although he'd had plenty of opportunities to kill us, he hadn't so much as raised a finger to threaten us in any way, so I was inclined to listen when he insisted that he was not the bad guy in all of this but that the threat appeared to be coming from someone within the CIA. However, before he could enlighten us any further, the van doors burst open and, you've guessed it, we were all dragged off to the CIA yet again.

Sadly, whilst in CIA custody, someone managed to put a bullet through our previous suspect's brain. He'd been right, the problem was within the organisation. It was a long night, then, while the spooks did their thing and we waited. Unfortunately, waiting meant opportunities to talk and Sophia wasted no time in putting the boot in. Maybe she was just trying to give me the benefit of her experience but, with hindsight, I guess she was just trying to mess with my head. She came out with the story of how wonderfully close she and Castle had been; how they'd tried to resist the temptation of anything more than friendship for as long as they could but then they just gave in to their feelings; how, once they'd slept together, all they had left were the things that drove each other crazy; and how, sometimes, she wished they'd never slept together and just kept the longing. At the time, I was worried; she was describing Castle and I's relationship down to the letter; but now I'm sure she was just playing her games like she always did.

Because our final brush with death was at the hands of none other than Sophia Turner, herself. She was the person behind all of it. She was a spy, only not one of ours. She was a Russian agent who was left behind when the Soviet Union collapsed and simply waited for her opportunities to make a hell of a lot of money, offering her services to the highest bidder.

She and her associate cornered us in the basement of a hotel. She had us on our knees but in the end, her arrogance probably saved our lives because she just had to taunt Castle a little bit more. The poor guy was already in shock over the fact that Clara Strike was a foreign agent and mercenary but she had to put the boot in again when she dropped the hint that Castle's dad may have had some connection to the CIA. Now, I know that Castle has never really shown any great interest in knowing who his dad is but Sophia knew Rick, knew his fascination with the CIA and knew just how to torment him that little bit more before putting a bullet in his head.

Her taunting had bought us time; time for the good guys to dash to the rescue. I honestly thought for a brief second that the gunshot signalled Castle's death but then Sophia crumpled to the ground; death was 0 for 4.

There was one thing to be said for this case, I didn't have much paperwork to do! The CIA rescued my car from the Hudson and returned it to me as good, if not better than, new. Then there was Castle. The poor guy's trust and judgement had been dealt a severe blow. He did ask Mr CIA if he knew anything about his father being in the agency but I found it hard to tell if he really wanted to know or if he just felt that he was under some obligation to at least pose the question. The response was in the negative so I guess that's the end of it for now at least but I have to wonder if the seed has taken root in there somewhere. Sophia Turner was a traitor and told a lot of lies but if she gave Castle some sort of false hope about his father, well it's a good job she's already dead because I might just have been tempted to put a bullet in her skull myself. Richard Castle is a good man and he deserves far better than people like Sophia Turner messing with his life.

_As she reflected on her words, Kate realised that she'd been right; the diary had helped her to sort out her feelings and one thing she knew for sure was that she would go to the ends of the earth to defend her partner, her friend and the love of her life from the Sophia Turner's of this world._


	18. 18 Episodes 17 & 18

**Two more cases covered in this chapter. Hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: Castle does not belong to me.**

Chapter 18

Once Upon a Crime & A Dance with Death

_Kate was surprised when she finally woke up enough to look at her clock and discover that it was already eleven thirty. She had been sleeping better of late but it had been a very long time since she had stayed in bed so long. The team had had two cases in very quick succession but now they were both wrapped up and Gates had promised them all two days off provided the paperwork had been completed. That was an offer she was not going to refuse so she had stayed at the precinct until after midnight making sure the cases were signed off to the Captain's satisfaction. Now, however, as she thought about the free time ahead of her, she realised that, unless she managed to distract herself, thoughts of the underlying causes of the completed cases would certainly prey on her mind. She had now discovered that one thing that served as an excellent distraction was her diary. Although this would not prevent her dwelling on the cases, it would help her put her thoughts into some semblance of order and that was most certainly what she needed._

Secrets. Secrets are like time bombs, eventually they explode. Secrets ruin lives and it doesn't matter how old the secret is, or how long it's been kept, once it comes out, people are hurt, people suffer, people die and innocent people tend to be the ones who are hurt the most. I know this. I've seen it played out before my eyes during these last few days and yet here I am, still keeping my secret, still lying to my partner, my best friend. I've spent so many sleepless nights trying to find a way to tell him. I've wanted to tell him for months but, as with any lie, the longer the truth remains hidden, the harder it is to be told and now I know just how much it will hurt him; the knowledge that I've been lying to him for so long will cause more damage than the lie itself.

Our first case began with the discovery of Little Red Riding Hood's body in the woods. No, I'm not joking, that is really how we were introduced to it. She appeared, on initial inspection, to have been killed by an animal, a big, bad wolf maybe? It was only a few hours later when we were called out again. This time the victim was Snow White complete with poisoned apple in her hand. We appeared to have a fairy tale killer on our hands and boy, did Castle love this one!

It turned out, though, that both victims, Amy Morgan and Kristina Curtis, had been killed with a cocktail of drugs and had been dressed in the costumes post-mortem. We could find no connection between the two women except for the obvious fact of their similar deaths and that each of them had withdrawn $50605 from their bank accounts.

Finally we discovered that the women had had lunch at a diner the previous Friday with a third woman. We traced Charlotte Boyd through her bank account (she'd also withdrawn the exact same amount) and arrived at her apartment to find her on her bed dressed as Sleeping Beauty. Fortunately, unlike the others, she was still alive, if only just.

At Charlotte's apartment we found the link between the three women. A photograph taken at 11.23pm on 6th May 2005 – 50605 – with a message written on the back, _Who's the guiltiest of them all? If you pay you'll live to see another day. _Charlotte was being blackmailed and it was safe to assume Amy and Kristina were too. What was more, in the photo, the women were dressed in the same fairy tale costumes they'd been found wearing. There was a fourth person in that photograph, a young man. Was he our killer, our blackmailer or maybe both?

As it turned out, no, he wasn't because he'd not survived the night of the photo. Owen Thomas, high on a cocktail of drugs, the same drugs that had killed our victims, had left an underground rave at 10.45pm and he'd been hit by a car and left at the side of the road to die of his injuries.

Young Owen had an older brother, Darren who just happened to be married to Amy Morgan's sister, Lesley. By chance Darren and Lesley had found an old camera and had thought it would be a great idea to see what photos were on it. As soon as Darren saw the photo of Owen with the three girls, he knew one of them had been responsible for his brother's death and had sought revenge in the form of blackmail but he was vehement in his insistence that he had not killed them.

In the end, and not for the first time, it was Castle who solved the case and it all came down to a mis-tied bow. The bows on Amy and Kristina's costumes were tied beautifully but the bow on Charlotte's was messy and vertical. She'd tied it herself, behind her back. Charlotte Boyd was our killer. She denied it at first, of course, but the evidence was overwhelming and in the end, she folded.

Charlotte had been driving the car that hit Owen that night seven years ago but the three women had agreed to keep quiet about it; until the photograph turned up. Then all bets were off. Charlotte, afraid of the scandal, had decided to silence the witnesses to her previous crime. The crazy thing is, if the girls had just reported the accident, there probably would have been few repercussions for them but by remaining silent, keeping the secret, two women died, one will spend most of her life in prison, a man will be jailed for blackmail and numerous loved ones have had their lives ruined.

Our most recent case also involved secrets. The death of Odette Morton, a very popular contestant on the TV show, A Night of Dance, was big news and, as such, Gates was on us to get it resolved quickly. As with most murders though, all was not as it seemed. In fact Odette Morton was not even Odette Morton, heiress and party girl who'd changed her ways but Barbara Landau, girl from the wrong side of the tracks, high school drop-out and stripper.

As we delved into the two women's pasts, we discovered that Odette's partying led to a few brushes with the law which resulted in community service orders and, as Castle so eloquently put it, she was happy to do the crime but not the time. Having seen Barbara during a girls' night at the strip club and been aware of the striking resemblance between them, Odette came up with the idea of creating a 'faux' 'dette. She paid for Barbara to have the necessary plastic surgery and, voila, Odette could carry on partying, while Barbara took her place on the more mundane occasions.

Barbara was supposedly killed in a train crash a year ago; the same crash which Odette survived and brought about her conversion from party girl to more responsible citizen. Now that miraculous conversion made more sense. Odette was the one who died in that train and Barbara lived and in doing so, took her opportunity to become Odette on a permanent basis.

That might have been the end of the story but for Odette's big secret; the secret she had not shared with Barbara and when Barbara had found out about it, she made the mistake of trying to use it to her advantage, as leverage to keep her safe but in the end, it got her killed instead.

What was that secret? Well, to say the least, it was pretty big. Odette had a boyfriend at the time of her grandfather's death; a boyfriend he did not approve of to the extent that he threatened to cut Odette out of his will if she continued the relationship. So she came up with her plan. She created a distraction in the kitchen at lunchtime one day, giving her boyfriend, the family's financial advisor, Samuel Lynchberg, the time to smother the old man with a pillow.

During a confrontation about her credit card spending one day, Samuel realised that she was not actually Odette and Barbara realised what Samuel had done. She tried to blackmail him but he decided his only available action was to kill her. Once again, when confronted by overwhelming evidence, the killer confessed.

I did manage to learn a little more about Castle's childhood during the fairytale case. Martha has been busy putting together a one-woman show based on her life. Castle insists most of it is fiction but I suspect there's more than a basis of truth in the story. She performed it for us after we'd concluded the case. It was really good especially as it embarrassed the hell out of Castle. I did feel for him a little, though, because I know just what it's like to have someone create a fictional version of your life, you listening there, Castle, and I took hold of his hand in a gesture of solidarity. We stayed like that for the rest of the show, holding hands on his knee. God, it felt so good, so right. Why the hell can't I just smash through my walls and move on with my life?

After the Odette/Barbara case I allowed Castle a slight insight into my dreams as a kid; I was pre-law at Stanford and had my sights set on becoming the first female Chief Justice. I think Castle was impressed; he kind of looked proud of me and, believe me, that felt good, great, in fact.

Secrets caused so much pain in both these cases and I'm so scared what's going to happen when my secret comes out because I know it will; I will pluck up enough courage to come clean one day and that day will have to be soon because, much though the consequences terrify me, I want to move on and I know that's just not possible until I do this.

_Kate put the diary on one side and thought about everything she'd written. It was quite amazing how the diary helped her to organise her mind. She now knew what she had to do, all she needed to work out now was how the hell she was going to do it. More thinking time was required. Kate went to the bedroom, changed into her vest and shorts and headed out for a long run._


	19. 19 47 Seconds

**Now things start to get serious!**

Chapter 19

47 Seconds

_Since Kate had begun writing her diary after her shooting, she had always found the time to do it at the end of a case, maybe straight away, maybe a few days later on a day off, but always after the case was closed. This case was different. They'd only got it today. They weren't even leading the investigation; that was the job of the FBI and Homeland Security; they were simply doing the leg work. But this case was getting to her and she knew she needed to try to make some sense of a senseless act; so that was why she was writing in her diary at two in the morning when she was well aware of the fact that she was due back at the precinct at seven._

Normally when we have a murder to solve there's a reason behind it; sometimes that reason is twisted and illogical but nevertheless, it's there. This time five people were dead simply because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. One was a young man, a leader of the protest movement; another a husband, there with his wife, tourists, first time in New York, hoping to start a family soon; a student, first kid in his family to go to college; a mother of two. None of these people should be dead now but they are and it's up to us to find out why.

There's way more to it than that, though. These people all had dreams; they all had things to do; maybe they'd just not got around to it yet; not plucked up the courage to say or do something that could make their lives better. Now their time has run out and death gives no second chances.

Or maybe it does. I feel like maybe I've been given a second chance, after all I have cheated death once. In my job I'm well aware that my life could be over in the blink of an eye but this case has just brought that home to me and I need to realise that I must stop putting it off; I need to tell Castle the truth. I very nearly did today. The words were there, on the tip of my tongue but Esposito had to walk in and break the moment but I'm determined now, the next chance I get I'm going to tell him how I feel about him, tell him I'm in love with him; I can't leave it any longer.

What is this case that's causing so much thought? A bombing. A bomb exploded during a 'Take Over Wall Street' protest in Boylan Plaza. When we arrived at the scene, it was like a war zone. The bodies were still lying in the street, the wounded were receiving treatment on the scene but most people were just standing around in a state of shock. I felt much the same and, by the look on Castle's face, he was struggling to hold it together. The FBI was already in charge and we were relegated to the sidelines while Captain Gates negotiated our role in the investigation.

As it turned out, our first job was to interview the families of the victims. God, that was hard. I was so glad when it was over. Our next task was to interview the witnesses, over 300 names, to find if anyone had seen anything near the site of the blast in the 47 second window in which we knew the bomb had been planted. It's going to be a long investigation if we can't find a way to prioritise.

Castle and I visited the morgue to see if the dead could tell us anything more useful than we'd managed to get from the living while Captain Gates was trying to get video footage out of the FBI to help us identify the more useful potential witnesses. Lanie had found blue fibres from a bag of some kind on the victim closest to the blast, Jessie Friedman, the protest leader. At least we now had an idea of what we were looking for. When Castle caught sight of Alexis, he excused himself to check how she was doing. Evidently she wasn't doing so well because he returned a few minutes later with her and took her home. I could sympathise with her. No-one should have to face a scene like that one in the morgue, let alone an eighteen year old kid. I just hope she's okay. I know Castle will give her all the comfort and support that he can because, frankly, there's nothing he wouldn't do for his daughter and witnessing that love, well let's just say, it makes me love him even more.

I hope we get a break on this case soon because I need to live for the moment and stop putting things off for a tomorrow that could never arrive.

_It was now almost three o'clock and, as Kate put the diary away, she hoped she would be able to get a couple of hours decent sleep so that she would be at her best the next day to get to the bottom of this case and move on with her life._

_Two days later the case was solved and Gates sent the whole team home early to get some much needed rest but Kate was worried. She couldn't put her finger on exactly what was wrong, but something was troubling Castle and had been for most of the day. She was still pretty wired so decided to finish her diary entry on the bombing case._

What a waste of life! Five people died because one young man wanted publicity for a movement that seemed to be losing support, one young woman was too ambitious, prepared to do anything to get ahead and another young man thought the best way to make some easy money was as a pickpocket and a crowded plaza made for rich pickings.

When Castle came into the precinct the next morning armed, as always, with my morning coffee, he said he wanted to talk to me. I had the distinct impression that his mind was working along the same lines as mine. I'm almost certain that he was going to tell me something important and I'm sure it was going to about our relationship and I was definitely ready to hear whatever he had to say but, and not for the first time, we were interrupted, this time by Ryan telling us that Gates was gathering the troops for a briefing. God, I wish we could just catch a break. He said it would wait until after the case but that's the odd thing; when the case was over, this evening, I asked him what he'd wanted and he just brushed it off, said it was nothing and walked out.

We pulled in a couple of people for questioning. The first, Andrew Haynes, seemed a viable suspect and the FBI were ready to charge him with the bombing but he wasn't our guy because the next witness we talked to, a street musician, terrified of the authorities because his visa had expired and so, hadn't come forward earlier, had actually seen the blue backpack placed next to the lamp-post by a young, Hispanic male, certainly not Haynes.

We were finally getting somewhere. The street drummer gave a description to a sketch artist; now we just had to find the guy. Gates had a separate assignment for Castle, which surprised him no end, and he was given all the transcripts of the witness interviews we'd carried out so far and was instructed to utilise his speed-reading skills to see if there was anything that had been missed. The look on his face was so funny, he looked like a whipped puppy that'd unexpectedly been patted on the head and told he was a good boy! He thought that, just maybe, Gates was beginning to warm to him and, although she vehemently denied it, I suspect he may be right.

Then, this morning, we finally got our break. I was at my desk wondering where Castle had got to, when Ryan came up and said that they'd found a witness who knew the guy as Bobby and, although she didn't know his last name, she did know where he lived. Ryan and Esposito picked Bobby Lopez up and brought him in for questioning. Castle still wasn't back so I took the interview on my own.

Bobby naturally denied everything at first but his story was so muddled as to be ridiculous. He claimed the backpack wasn't his but then stated that he hadn't put the bomb in it. He then tried to claim that he was confused because of all the chaos after the blast. Finally he claimed some form of traumatic amnesia. Well, that was it, that's one excuse he doesn't get to use with me. I told him I'd been shot in the chest and remembered every last second of it. I gave him some time to think about that while I caught up with Espo. Castle had been in while I was with Bobby as evidenced by the coffee on my desk but he'd apparently had to go somewhere. I guess that was about the time he began acting strangely.

He came back a while later but he wasn't his usual cheerful self. He was almost cold. I can normally read him like a book but this Richard Castle in front of me seemed somehow shut off. He chatted quite amicably with the boys about the case but with me, hell I just don't get what's the matter with him. Bobby as it turned out, was a pick-pocket. Castle and I went in to interview him again. This time, he came clean and the picture finally became clearer; with the case, at least; with Castle, not so much.

We put together the sequence of events that led to the blast. The bomb was made by Jessie Friedman but was intended to go off in a place to cause maximum terror but no injuries. He didn't allow for the backpack being stolen by Bobby Lopez, a thief looking for easy pickings. Bobby dumped the backpack when he realised Jessie had seen him taking it but the bomb was still detonated by remote control. Jessie must have had a partner because, under the circumstances, he would not have set it off. That partner turned out to be TV reporter, Leanne West.

So that was that. Case closed. I was still pretty wired and suggested we all go for a drink but Ryan and Esposito wanted to get home so I thought it would just be Castle and I but when I suggested it, well I don't think he could get away from me quick enough and he was gone. I really thought we were making progress. I find it so hard to accept that, just when I'm ready to put a sledgehammer through the few remaining bricks in my wall, those few that Castle hasn't quite managed to chip away in the last few months, he's suddenly pulling away from me. If I don't know what the problem is, how the hell am I supposed to fix it?

_Kate found that she was now completely frustrated and angry. She looked back over her latest entry to try, yet again, to see if there was any clue to explain Castle's sudden behaviour. Then she saw it. She studied the timeline and the pieces began to fall into place._

Oh, God, no! Surely not.

_He couldn't have heard her confession to Bobby Lopez, could he?_

_Kate began to panic. Had Castle heard what she'd said in that interview room? Surely he would have confronted her about it, yelled, shouted, stormed out, anything. Why would he react like this? It made no sense to Kate at all and yet the evidence tended to suggest that he'd been in the observation room during that interview and if that was the case, if this was how he was dealing with it, what on earth could she do to put things right? Was there anything? She hoped to God there was, because otherwise it was all over, everything, gone, done, finished._

_Kate's anger completely evaporated to be replaced by utter desolation and the tears began to fall. She wept uncontrollably, feeling as though her heart was slowly tearing itself apart._

**A/N: Because I refuse to believe that a highly intelligent detective like Kate Beckett wouldn't at least suspect what had happened when she thought it through.**

**Hope you don't mind my take on it.**


	20. 20 Episodes 20, 21 &22

**Thanks to those of you who reviewed the last chapter. My interpretation did cause a reaction. I'm glad, it was supposed to! But most of you seemed to like the general idea.**

**Anyway, now to what I think is the longest chapter of the lot but there is a lot to get through as you can see that it covers 3 episodes. Basically I didn't want to dwell on the angst for too long. I needed to get past it!**

**Hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: it would be amazing if Castle was mine but it isn't and life still goes on.**

Chapter 20

The Limey, Headhunters and Undead Again

_For the last few weeks Kate had been operating on autopilot. She'd gone to work, done her job, stayed as late as Gates allowed, went home, maybe if she thought it was becoming a necessity, she'd have some food, then bed. Then, next day, she'd simply repeat the process. Although Dr. Burke had suggested the diary would be an excellent way for her to express her feelings, she'd had no desire to write her thoughts down; after all, how many different ways could she say that she was confused; that she had no idea what was actually going on; that she was terrified she was losing the love of her life before she'd ever been able to tell him that fact._

_But in the last few days, during their last case, she had finally seen a glimmer of hope; a light at the end of the tunnel that she longed to believe was not that of an oncoming freight train and she found herself drawn back to her diary. In fact, hell, it was way more than a glimmer. It was a fricking floodlight!_

The last weeks have been awful. I've just felt Castle pulling further and further away from me, dating blonde bimbos, shadowing another cop but then, just as I thought it was all over, there it was, a spark of hope and suddenly we're communicating again, not like most people do by actually talking things out, but like we've always done, in our own language of sub-text and eye contact.

When the bombing case was over, I invited Lanie round one evening and after a few glasses of wine, she got me to open up about Castle. As always with Lanie, she didn't mince her words although she didn't tell me anything I didn't already know but by the time we were interrupted by a dead body, I'd decided that I was going to tell Castle how I felt the first opportunity I got and, if I'd left it too long, if he'd got tired of waiting, well at least I'd know that I'd given it my best shot.

Sadly, my good intentions were somewhat derailed when Castle roars up to the crime scene in his Ferrari, looking like death himself, with a blonde in the passenger seat. Then, with me looking on, he hands her the car keys and lets her drive off in his pride and joy. We've been partners and friends for years now and I've only ever driven that car once, yet he suddenly just entrusts it to a complete stranger. What the hell? Jacinda, the bimbo, was evidently trustworthy because she's a first class flight attendant that he'd just met on his flight back from a weekend in Vegas. Looking at the state of him, I really had no desire to know what he'd been up to in Sin City. Anyway, any thoughts I may have had about telling Castle how I felt about him were firmly put on hold, if not buried under a hundred tons of concrete.

As always, Castle still managed to have his moments during that particular case, when he could be bothered to turn up; when he wasn't having long lunch breaks with uncomplicated stewardesses. Yes, I'm sorry Castle but I'm a complicated person, our relationship, such as it is, is complicated, I though you accepted that.

We went to pick up a potential suspect and as we entered the hotel room, we were confronted by a rather attractive man, dressed in nothing more than a hotel towel. For the hell of it, I told him to raise his hands (there really wasn't anywhere he could have been hiding a weapon, except the obvious one, of course) and, interestingly, the towel had apparently not been fastened too well. The next thing I knew, Castle's hand was covering my eyes but if he could run around with blonde bimbos, I sure as hell wasn't going to miss the opportunity for a sneak peak and I have to say, the view was not at all unappealing.

As it turned out, the 'suspect' was Inspector Colin Hunt of Scotland Yard and he ended up working the case with us. Colin and I went undercover to a party at the British Consulate. It was a black tie event and I made sure I was suitably dressed for the occasion in a long, strapless black number and, yes, I made sure I got ready at the precinct. Colin had offered to pick me up from home but I had other ideas. I wanted to make certain that Castle saw me dressed up; that he got a good eyeful of what he was missing. Petty, maybe, but effective. As I walked into the bullpen, I could see all the guys staring at me as though I was a total stranger, which I guess I was really but I also saw the look on Castle's face and it gave me slight cause for hope because he was definitely looking and definitely not unaffected.

We caught the bad guy in the end. Oh God, I hate to admit it, but Jacinda, the bimbo, may have helped (very slightly) by identifying a mysterious series of numbers as those referring to diplomatic pouches. I'll skip over the fact that Castle was discussing our case with a stewardess because that thought makes me sick. The case was all about arms smuggling; smuggling Stinger missiles through diplomatic channels to rebels in Uganda.

Colin asked me to join him for a drink before his flight back to London but I still had some unfinished business with Castle so I declined. I really wanted to talk but when I asked Castle if we could have a chat, he said Jacinda had the Ferrari double-parked in a loading zone. They were off on yet another date, four in three days. That was when I got the 'fun and uncomplicated' talk. I'd had a brief opportunity to say something; we looked at each other, I could almost believe for a moment that he wanted me to say something, but then the chance had passed and I'd missed it again. I was losing him and there was nothing I could do about it.

I picked the phone up and called Colin back. If I was going to drown my sorrows, I might as well do it with someone else. We met up but I wasn't very good company. I think he was aware of something between Castle and I, everyone always seems to be and his instincts told him all was not well but he was the perfect gentleman and allowed me to drink in peace, no questions asked. Once his flight was called, we said goodbye and I got a taxi home. I guess it could be said that I was the epitome of a boring date!

I didn't see Castle again for a few days and it was a very pleasant surprise when he turned up at the precinct one morning armed with my usual coffee and we actually managed to exchange pleasantries. Sadly, my happiness lasted all of about five seconds. It appeared that he wasn't there to see me at all but to quiz me about Detective Ethan Slaughter of the gangs division and currently the detective in charge of a severed heads case that was making the news. I think he realised I was uncomfortable with the situation. I was prepping for a trial but I hated the thought of Castle researching another cop. I felt betrayed, I guess; the thought of Castle even thinking about another cop was making me jealous, how sad is that? But a cop like Slaughter, that was bad news – he's bad news. Okay, he gets the job done but at what cost? He has a reputation throughout the city for playing at the very edge of the law; he has more complaints against him for excessive force than anyone else and, worst of all, he has a reputation for getting his partners killed. If Castle was even thinking about following this guy around, he was in trouble and that thought terrified me.

The next time I saw Castle, sure enough, there he was, parading through the 12th with Slaughter and a couple of suspects, having clearly been in amongst the action. He had a piece of bloody tissue sticking out of his nose but he was so pumped up with having been part of the take down; you'd think he'd just been sitting watching me do nothing but paperwork for the past four years.

I needed to do something. My mind was all over the place. I went to see Dr. Burke. He's always been very understanding and has helped me get through so much but this time he seemed, I don't know, amused by the whole situation. In the end, he suggested that Castle was pulling away to protect himself but I needed to know what I was supposed to do about it and he just asked me,

"What do you want to do?"

As if 'what I want to do' will do any good; I could hardly tell him that I want to f*** his brains out so I just gave him the Beckett glare. Thanks, Dr. Burke, you've been a big help!

In the end, I decided that the only thing I could do was to be there if he needed me which, I suspected, was highly likely if he was going to be hanging around with Slaughter for very long. Sure enough, it didn't take long for Castle to catch on and he soon realised he was in way over his head with that guy. The boys and I kept an eye on him from a distance but finally I had to step in. Interfering with another cop's case is frowned upon in the Department but I knew Slaughter wasn't likely to report me. He couldn't afford to because I had far worse on him. Suffice to say, I stood by Castle, watched out for him, behaved as a partner should. It was the only way I had to show I cared. I hope he understood. I think maybe he got it.

Then we had our most recent case and, oh boy, was that right up Castle's street. He was behaving strangely early in the case. He kept making comments that almost sounded as though he was leaving and, frankly, that thought terrified me more than anything that occurred later in our investigation. Yes, I admit it, there were a couple of times during this one, when I was, to say the least, freaked out!

The case should have been easily solved; after all we did have a very clear surveillance camera shot of the killer. Sadly, the killer was a zombie! Or at least, he looked like a zombie and acted like a zombie but zombies don't exist so he could not be a zombie. Imagine Castle's reaction to all this, he was like a kid let loose in a toy store.

We got a lead that took us to an abandoned warehouse. Castle and I went to investigate that evening. We'd taken a look round but there didn't seem to be anything to help us with our investigation but just as we were headed back to the car we heard footsteps running towards us and we were soon confronted by a young couple who looked absolutely terrified. They urged us to run but, naturally, that was the last thing we were going to do. We headed in the direction they'd appeared from. As it turned out, that was not our smartest move as we came face to face with a zombie hoard. There were dozens of them, shuffling towards us, moaning and groaning and before we knew it, we were surrounded by them. I had my gun out but couldn't exactly decide where to point it. Castle wasn't much help either although he did rather gallantly tell me to get behind him, which would have been all well and good had we not been completely surrounded. Finally, I went with my gut and yelled at the top of my voice, although it may have come out as a bit of a squeak to begin with,

"NYPD. Stop moving now! And stop pretending to be zombies!"

That had the desired effect. It turned out they were zombie walking. Yeah, I had no idea what that was all about although it did lead us to identifying our killer zombie. I can't quite believe I just wrote that!

Ryan and Esposito went to pick up Kyle Jennings but found him dead. Castle and I went to the morgue to find what Perlmutter could tell us and that's when I had my second freak out of the case. Jennings's body was on the table while the good doctor and Castle were having a very familiar spat. Just as Perlmutter jabbed the body in the arm with a needle, the eyes shot open, he sat bolt upright and ran out of the room. Once I managed to regain some level of composure, I ran after him. I guess it must have been quite a sight, me chasing after a zombie along the corridors of the medical examiner's building. The chase didn't last too long, though, after all the guy had just been, to all intents and purposes, dead so he ran out of steam pretty quickly.

When we were finally able to talk to Jennings, we discovered he did, in fact, have no recollection whatsoever about anything that had happened. He had been at a zombie walk and then woke up on the autopsy table. He accepted that the 'zombie' in the photograph was indeed him and with one look at his hands, he knew we were telling him the truth about what he'd done. Could he really have no memory of committing murder? It seemed unlikely.

After talking to Kyle Jennings at the hospital, Castle and I were discussing the interview when our conversation took a very interesting turn. All of a sudden we weren't talking about Kyle any more but we both knew the conversation had become personal and Castle said, looking me straight in the eyes,

"When a life altering moment occurs, people remember."

There it was, right out there, front and centre. He knew. I couldn't hide; I couldn't run; I had to respond.

"Well, maybe it's too big to deal with. Maybe he can't face it just yet."

He was listening so carefully, taking in every word, every look, every inflection of my voice trying to understand what I wasn't saying as much as what I was.

"You think he ever will be?"

I knew at that moment my answer could change everything. I had to get it right.

"Hopefully. If he feels safe."

With that, I hoped he understood that I still wanted him to wait for me. The conversation wasn't over. We needed to say more but the arrival of Permutter put paid to that for the time being.

The case was finally over when we tricked Tom Williams into confessing that he had plied Kyle with the 'Zombie Drug' and sent him to kill David Locke who was making a move on Tom's fiancé, Greta. I have to say, Castle made a very cute zombie. He'd dressed up in Kyle's costume for the sting and was still mostly a zombie when we were back at the precinct and able to tell Kyle the good news that he was free to go. Poor Kyle. He'll have a very difficult job getting over that experience, if he ever can. And that led Castle and I to the rest of our conversation. Castle suggested that, for Kyle to put it behind him, he was going to need therapy. There was my chance, the opening I needed.

"It helps."

As soon as I said that, I could see Castle immediately respond. He knew exactly what I was talking about and it wasn't about Kyle anymore.

"At first he won't even be able to deal with it. It's gonna take everything that he's got to just put one foot in front of the other and get through the day."

"I didn't know you were seeing a therapist?"

It was time for honesty.

"Yeah, well, I didn't wanna make any excuses. I just wanted to put in the time and do the work. But I think I'm almost where I wanna be now."

"And where's that?"

He sounded so nervous, when he asked. I hated that I'd made him so unsure.

"In a place where I can finally accept everything that happened that day," and just to be sure he knew exactly what I meant, I said again,

"Everything."

"I think I understand," and I knew he did so I needed to give him more.

"And that wall that I was telling you about, I think it's coming down."

Then he said the words I'd really hoped to hear,

"Well I'd like to be there when it does."

Thank God!

"Yeah, I'd like you to be there, too."

So that's where we stand. I think we're on the same page finally.

Best. Conversation. Ever.

_Kate could not suppress her smile as she finally put the diary down. Okay, maybe they still hadn't actually talked about their relationship but Castle now knew where she was; that she was working at it and was very nearly there and , for the first time in many weeks, Kate felt happy, really, really happy._

**I could not resist using Stana's blooper quote in this one.**

**Big finale coming up although it does take a few chapters, I'm afraid. There are 5 more chapters plus an epilogue to this story. I had to include 501, After the Storm because, of course, there is no time gap when Kate could possibly have written up her diary. If you haven't seen the beginning of Season 5 yet, I'll make sure I put a note where you should stop reading and you can just jump from there to the epilogue.**


	21. 21 Always & After the Storm (Part 1)

**Thank you so much for all the kind words.**

**Well, here we go, the beginning of the end. Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 21

Always and After the Storm (Part 1)

_Kate Beckett was happy. No, happy didn't come close to describing how she felt. Exhilarated, ecstatic, those were probably closer to the mark but somehow still not enough. In the last week she'd run the full gamut of emotions and experiences but now she was free of the past; the weight of it forever lifted from her shoulders._

_She was alone in her apartment. It was actually the first time she'd been alone for a few days and, ridiculous as it sounded, she missed him. Four years. For four years she'd managed perfectly well to spend time alone, away from him and yet now she could barely manage a few hours without him. Kate needed to keep herself occupied and so she took the diary out of the drawer by her bed and read over the last entry she'd made._

_When she'd written that she had begun to believe there was hope; now she knew she'd been right and she felt an urgent need to confirm that in writing; to add, what she suspected may well turn out to be, one last entry to the record of her long and sometimes tortuous journey of recovery._

I just don't know where to begin to describe the last week. A rollercoaster ride has fewer twists and turns but, God, was the ride ever worth it!

Having confessed to Castle that my walls were almost down, I'd made a firm decision that I would take every opening he offered me to show him that I wanted to open up to him and as we approached a crime scene a couple of days before Alexis's graduation, one such opportunity occurred.

We were chatting about the graduation and I was joking about Castle being the one just wearing boxers under his gown, a thought conjuring up very pleasant images in my head, when he stated that, no, that was an insult, he'd been naked. Well, if the images before had been pleasant, the pictures flashing in my brain now were positively hot and I knew a change of subject was required before I completely embarrassed myself.

All joking aside, I knew Alexis's graduation was going to be hard on Castle. His little girl was growing up and would soon be heading for college; it's a tough time for any parent but the bond between Castle and his daughter is just so tight, he's going to find it especially difficult. I asked him how he was planning on spending graduation night. He'd evidently got it all mapped out; Martha was going to the Hamptons, Alexis had her all-nighter and he was going to have a John Woo double feature, The Killer and Hard Boiled. He'd obviously decided to drown his sorrows in a blood bath! I may have happened to mention a certain penchant for bloody John Woo films at that point, which prompted Castle to pause and then he asked me, rather hesitatingly,

"You wouldn't wanna join me, would you?"

Wow, movie night at Castle's to help him forget his sorrows; there was an opening I wasn't even going to think twice about.

"Actually, I'd love to."

Castle's reaction? A state of shock, I think would probably best describe it. Maybe I was in the same state; had I really just accepted a date with Castle? Yes, I had. The new, more open Kate Beckett was stepping to the fore.

It didn't take too long for my fortunes to slam into reverse, though.

The body in the alley was that of Orlando Costas, a former thief and gang member as a teenager but who later cleaned up his act by spending four years in the military as an M.P. earning an honourable discharge. After interviewing his long time girlfriend, Marisol Castaneda, who confirmed that they did have money problems but insisted that there was no way that Orlando would have returned to his former gang life, we were able to find his car abandoned not far from the alley where his body turned up. The evidence we found in the car set the investigation in a whole new direction; a direction that threatened to become far too personal. The last place Orlando had visited was Roy Montgomery's house.

We immediately went to see Evelyn Montgomery and found ourselves in the middle of a robbery investigation. Evelyn was quite happy to see us and willing to answer questions. She'd disturbed Orlando and had shot him in the shoulder. He'd fired back as he fled but his shot had not caused any damage other than to a clock but he had got away with the Captain's old files and an old computer which, according to Evelyn, only contained Christmas lists and recipes. He hadn't stolen any valuables, which indicated to me that this was not a random robbery but something more sinister and, as we returned to the precinct, I know we all had the same thought, was this connected to my mom's murder and my shooting?

Castle tried to reassure me but I was scared. I'd spent the last year wondering why the hell, having failed to kill me once, they hadn't tried again. I couldn't read the look on Castle's face at that point, something was there but I had no idea what it was. Later, I understood. It was guilt. But that comes further on in the story.

I had a terrible night, that night. Little sleep is not unusual for me but no sleep at all, that doesn't happen too often, thank God. I was in the precinct early the next morning and was staring at the murder board when Castle came in with my morning coffee. He could tell at a glance that I was struggling under the pressure of what this case could potentially involve and, as I brought him up to date, he looked at me with such care and concern; it was all I could do not to fall into his arms, lose myself in him and never come out. He told me that he was there for me and that I wasn't in this alone. If I had any doubts left about how much he still cared for me, they were completely obliterated in that moment. I took his hand, told him I understood and looked him in the eye, hoping that he could see everything I wasn't yet quite able to say. Naturally, our moment was interrupted by the boys. They had information which suggested that all my worries could be in vain; the case could, after all, simply be gang related.

My relief was palpable but short lived. DNA from under Orlando's finger nails matched that found at an earlier shooting – mine. There we had it, proof that the cases were connected and I could feel the rabbit hole opening under my feet as I stood in that observation room. I made the first of many bad decisions then. I decided that we should not tell Gates about the connection to my shooting. I knew that she'd take me off the case if she found out and I needed to be on it; I needed to be in charge, it was the only way I could hold it together. Castle seemed to think that maybe I shouldn't be on the case but I wasn't prepared to let someone else screw it up.

The next day I was running out of control, I can see that now. I made a deal with Vincente Delgardo that I had no authority to make; I came on way too strong with Marisol when we brought her back in. But, nevertheless, we got a lead to a church on State Street where Orlando had met with a former military buddy who, we suspected, was his killer and my shooter. We were lucky that the church had cameras and it was with a great sense of anticipation that I scoured the recordings, looking for a trace of the guy who put a bullet in my chest. And there he was. The image was grainy but I finally had a face to put to my demon, my nemesis. Now I just needed a name to go with the face. We could not go through normal channels because as soon as we tried that, someone would know we were onto it and he would disappear. We had to find a way to id the guy by ourselves. Ryan didn't think it was possible but as far as I was concerned, it was the only option.

That evening I went home and spent hours just staring at my murder board until a knock at the door broke my trance. It was Castle and I was about to make yet another very bad decision.

He'd come to try to persuade me to leave the case alone and I was suddenly taken back twelve months to an eerily similar conversation which had ended badly. I really didn't want history to repeat itself but I guess I should have realised that, given my state of mind, it was inevitable.

I have to say that I don't think I've ever seen Castle so upset, he was clearly only just managing to hold himself together while he pleaded with me for my life. He seemed to think that whoever was behind all of this was suddenly going to come after me now when as far as I was concerned, there'd been nothing to prevent them from killing me any time during the past year. Apparently I was wrong. Someone, somewhere, an old friend of Roy Montgomery's, had files, documents, evidence that would never see the light of day as long as I was not under threat but for the deal to work I had to stay away from my mom's murder and Castle had been making sure I did just that. He was a part of this conspiracy and that nearly killed me on the spot.

If I'd listened, I would have realised that he had only accepted his role in order to keep me safe but I had too much anger boiling up inside to listen carefully He'd been lying to me to protect me and I was angry. Now wasn't that hypocritical. Had I not been lying to him for a year, too, another lie intended to protect but instead, tearing us apart. I had to know how he could have done this but I wasn't prepared to hear the answer when it came,

"Because I love you."

Damn the man. Why could he only say those words to me when my heart was being torn apart, the first time by a bullet and now by his revelations? I'll give him his due, though, even in the circumstances he had the guts to call me on my lie,

"But you already know that, don't you? You've known for about a year."

I can't believe that I actually questioned whether or not I could trust anything he said. I know that I'd trust Richard Castle with my life and I have done for four years. There are no excuses for my comments, I was utterly and completely out of order. I could see the flash of hurt in his eyes before the anger took over and even though I may not have responded well at the time or even appeared to have listened to what he said next, the fact is I will never forget those words for the rest of my life.

"Four years I've been right here. Four years just waiting for you to open your eyes to see that I'm right here and that I'm more than a partner. Every morning I bring you a cup of coffee just so that I can see a smile on your face because I think you are the most remarkable, maddening, challenging, frustrating person I've ever met and I love you, Kate, and if that means anything to you, if you care about me at all, just don't do this."

By the time he'd finished speaking he was very nearly in tears. I know that now but at the time, I couldn't see beyond the hurt, the supposed betrayal; frankly I couldn't see beyond my own selfish agenda. I fought back. It tears me apart when I think of it now. How the hell could I treat the man I love beyond reason so badly? He tried one more time to get me to see sense but I was too far gone. Finally, the light went out of his eyes, I could see it happen, and he admitted defeat. At that moment, I think I began to realise what I was doing and what I was about to lose when he said,

"Yeah, you're right, Kate. It's your life, you can throw it away if you want but I'm not gonna stick around and watch you so this is over. I'm done."

With that, he turned and walked out. All I could do was stare at the closed door.

_As Kate thought about the events of that evening and just how close she'd come to losing Castle for good, she realised her hand was trembling and the tears were falling freely. She needed a break before she continued the rollercoaster ride so she headed to the bathroom and ran herself a very hot bath. The story had ended well, not just well but brilliantly, superbly and any other words you could come up with along the same line, but for now she was wracked with guilt for the way she'd behaved that night. Maybe it had been a necessary step along the road to the amazing final destination but she still found it hard to believe just how much of a selfish bitch she'd been and how badly she'd treated the man she adored._

**Next chapter will be up soon!**


	22. 22 Always & After the Storm (Part 2)

**Here's today's 2****nd**** offering. Thank you for your wonderful reviews, they mean a lot to me.**

Chapter 22

Always and After the Storm (Part 2)

_After a very long soak in the bath during which time she dragged herself back to her perfect present rather than dwelling in the turmoil of the past, Kate was ready to return to the diary. There was so much left to tell. She wished she had Castle's gift for words but this was her diary and as such the story would have to be told her way._

I'm not sure how long I stood there staring at the door but finally, when all the fight and bravado had seeped away, I broke down. I'd allowed the best thing that had ever happened to me to walk away; no, I hadn't, I'd driven him away with my own stubborn stupidity. Eventually the tears subsided, frankly there were none left, I was empty, hollow, a shell. I was also physically and emotionally exhausted, and that was the only reason that I managed to fall asleep at all that night. It was a sleep filled with horrors and nightmares, death and betrayal.

The next morning, when I couldn't lie there a moment longer, I dressed and headed for the cemetery. I needed to feel my mom's presence, I needed her guidance. It was barely dawn as I stood by the grey stone, fingering her ring, trying to find the answers. As I wiped away yet another tear, it was right there, staring me in the face,

'_Vincit omnia veritas', _'Truth conquers all things'.

My mother had lived (and died) by that code, who was I to argue. If I found the truth, the person behind everything, then my life would be fulfilled, anything else was simply of secondary consideration. Tunnel vision, that was what I needed, eye on the target, no distractions and with a renewed sense of purpose, I headed to the precinct.

The boys brought me up to date, after enquiring after Castle, of course. I simply told them that he was off the team; no distractions, remember. They had a name for my shooter, Cole Maddox, which was a cover id but they'd been busy and had managed to track the GPS on his car rental to a one block radius of the Lower East Side. We were closing in, I could just feel it. I told Ryan to keep an eye on the situation at the precinct while Espo and I headed to find Maddox. Poor Kevin. He's a great cop and he immediately challenged me over my decision. He insisted we do it right, report our findings and take back-up but I was on a roll, tunnel vision, and I wasn't prepared to advertise our move to any more corrupt cops; there'd been so many of those over the years, I was only prepared to trust my team, no-one else. Stupid, I know. Just another bad decision in a long line of my bad decisions.

Espo and I canvassed the area and found Maddox's room. The manager let us in. Maddox himself was nowhere to be seen. As we searched the room, we found the stuff Orlando Costas had taken from Montgomery's house and one thing in particular caught my eye, a wedding album. Maddox had gone through the photographs crossing through people. One photograph was missing. He was looking for someone and it appeared that someone was in the missing photo. Finally I decided to call for back-up only I was too late.

Before I could turn round, I was flung against the wall and then down to the floor. I hadn't even managed to get back to my feet by the time the guy had taken Esposito out and headed for the roof. Once I recovered my gun, I went after him. What was I thinking? This guy had just taken Esposito out in two seconds flat, come on, Kate, Esposito, former military, Special Forces guy, what did I think I was going to do against him? Basically, I didn't think, I just reacted.

I got off a couple of rounds but they were way off target. Once on the roof, I chased him, looking for an opportunity to return the favour and put a bullet in him but just as I steadied myself he disappeared round a corner. The next thing I know, he's behind me and we're grappling for control of the gun. It didn't take me long to realise that this fight was not likely to end well for me. I threw everything I had at him. I'm generally considered, at the precinct, to be pretty damn good at unarmed combat but in this fight I might just as well have been a complete novice. And what really pissed me off was the fact that he seemed to be enjoying playing with me.

He could easily have killed me with his bare hands, he had them round my throat, but just added a few more blows for the hell of it. I was at his mercy on my hands and knees, gasping for breath and he just prowled round me like a wild cat playing with his prey. He spoke for the first time, then, saying that I had no idea who I was dealing with and in a final act of bravado I claimed he didn't either and attacked with everything I had left, which, naturally, was totally useless and the next thing I know, I'm hanging off the side of the building.

I don't think he'd intended for me to end up there but nor did he have any intention of helping me back up. As I was hanging by my fingertips from the ledge, he simply stood there, looking down at me for a brief moment whilst telling me that they knew exactly who they were dealing with and then he left. I was alone. I tried desperately to find some grip with my feet but the side of the building was just too smooth. I could see a fire escape off to the side but too far away to be of any use. I tried not to look down, I really did, but I couldn't help myself. The ground was a hell of long way away and I knew for sure that there was no way I would survive once my fingers left that ledge. I'd faced death many times in my years as a cop and had always accepted the fact that I could die on the job, maybe shot, stabbed, even blown to pieces but not like that, not smashing into the ground having fallen from the roof of a building.

Initially panic set in. I screamed for help. I strived to find the strength to pull myself back up. I did not want to die, not like that. Then, all of a sudden, a sense of calm took over. They say that when you look death in the face, your life suddenly becomes clearer and that happened to me. Hanging off the side of that hotel, my life which had always appeared to be so complicated, in an instant became so simple. Only one thing was important; not my job, not my mom's murder, none of those things that had always driven me in the past. The only thing that was important in my life was Richard Castle. There it was as clear as day, my revelation in the face of death, only now, I really did not want to die.

My right hand slipped then and I was now just hanging on for all I was worth with my left. Then I heard him, Castle, shouting my name, telling me to hang on and it gave me hope and the strength to hold on for a few extra seconds but as I yelled out for him, the fingers of my left hand finally gave way and I was falling. Then, instantly, my left shoulder felt as though it had been pulled out of its socket and hands were grabbing me, hauling back onto the roof. Once I was back on solid ground I looked up certain that Castle was my rescuer but I found myself staring into a different pair of blue eyes, those of Kevin Ryan. I was so sure it was Castle I'd heard but with a brief shake of his head, Ryan confirmed that my partner wasn't there. In that moment, I knew I had a lot of work to do if I wanted to regain Castle's trust and devotion. For the first time in four years, I'd faced death without him by my side and I did not want that to happen ever again.

As my brain returned to the present, I looked beyond Ryan and for the first time noticed the presence of Captain Gates and to say she did not look too pleased with the situation would be a major understatement.

Esposito and I were both checked out by paramedics on site and then, once we were given the all clear, we returned to the precinct and were immediately summoned into Gates's office. She hauled us over the coals and, I admit, we deserved it or at least I did. Espo had just been supporting me, backing me up. I was the one who the one guilty of bad judgement; I was the one who deserved to face the music, not Espo. I tried to speak up, to defend him but Gates just shot me down and refused to let me say my piece; said we were a disgrace, didn't deserve to wear the uniform; then she put us both on administrative leave and asked for our guns and badges. Esposito accepted his punishment and handed them over without argument. I paused and after a further prompt from Gates, put my gun on the table. I unclipped my badge and held it for a moment. For so long it had been the symbol of my fight for justice and purpose of being, at that moment, it meant nothing at all. I tossed it onto the desk and told Gates to keep it. I resigned.

Feeling suddenly more freedom than I had in a very long time, I turned and walked out of the captain's office. After I'd thrown my personal belongings from my desk into a bag, I walked towards the elevator. I could feel everyone looking at me but I just took a brief look back towards my desk or rather at the empty chair next to it where my partner had sat for the last four years and left. Only when I was alone in the elevator did I begin to consider my next move.

_At that moment, Kate's phone rang. It was Castle. He was in meetings all day at Black Pawn but had just taken a short break. They chatted for a while before Kate heard Gina in the background yelling for Castle to 'get his ass back in the room'._

"_Sorry, Kate, I've got to go. See you later? I don't know when I'll be done here, though, it could be late."_

_Frankly, Kate didn't care how late it was, she simply did not want to spend more time without him than absolutely necessary._

"_Yeah, Castle, come over whenever you're done. Just let me know when you're on your way and I'll make sure there's some food ready. See you."_

_Kate grinned to herself. When had she got so sappy? Yet, did she care? Not a bit._


	23. 23 Always & After the Storm (Part 3)

**I guess this is the chapter many are waiting for so here goes. I really hope you like it and that I've done the awesomeness that is the end of Always justice.**

Chapter 23

Always and After the Storm (Part 3)

_Kate hadn't told Castle about her diary but wondered if, one day, she might let him read it. When she'd started writing at Dr. Burke's suggestion, she had never had the slightest consideration that it would ever be read by anyone; the remotest prospect would have terrified her, but now? _

_Thinking that that was really a problem for another day, probably far in the future, if ever, she carried on writing where she'd left off when Castle phoned._

As I left the precinct, a storm was brewing; the clouds were heavy and I could hear thunder in the distance. The rain hadn't started yet but it couldn't be far away. I caught a cab back to my apartment but I only stayed long enough to leave my bag and change out of my turtle neck. I knew I was about to get very wet and there really seemed no point in ruining a perfectly good sweater. As I headed out of the building, the rain started and it came down with a vengeance but I didn't care. I needed to clear my head and just walk whilst I figured out how to make things right with Castle.

It wasn't long before I found myself in a very familiar place, the park where Castle and I had come to our agreement all those months ago after I'd deserted him for the summer while I recovered from my shooting. It seemed a fitting place to consider my next move. I sat on the same swing and remembered. I remembered that last time I'd managed, somehow, to find the right words and that gave me hope that maybe, just maybe, I could do it again but before I could do that, I had to go see him. So it was that I found myself, in the middle of a thunderstorm, standing outside Castle's building with a thunderstorm of a different kind crashing around inside me. I tried to call him but wasn't really surprised when he didn't pick up so I headed inside and up to the loft.

Now I was standing outside his door, any thoughts of what I was going to say left me completely. For a very brief moment, I considered running but I raised my hand and knocked on the door four times before I could change my mind. I could hear someone approaching, the door was flung open and there he was. He obviously hadn't checked to see who was there because for a moment there was a welcome in his eyes until he realised it was me and the shutters came down. We stared at each other for a few seconds and then, finally he spoke and asked me the one question I could answer with absolute certainty,

"Beckett, what do you want?"

That was so easy and I didn't even hesitate,

"You!"

There it was, in a nutshell. Everything I wanted was standing right there in front of me and I wasn't going to let him go without a fight so before he could respond, I acted. I stepped forward, grabbed his face and planted a kiss on his lips. I could immediately sense his confusion. He wanted to step away but he still responded, just slightly, to the kiss. I kept going. I needed to let him know just how sorry I was for everything I'd done to him, not just the last time we'd spoken, but really over the last four years and the apologies just poured out of me. I probably repeated the same thing about three or four times, our faces so close together, noses almost touching,

"I'm so sorry, Castle."

I leant in and kissed him again as if to try and emphasize my point but this time, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me away, not far, but far enough so he could look into my eyes. I kept my contact with him, though, by placing my other hand on his chest. As always with Castle, he needed to know the story and, with a voice far more gentle than I was expecting, he asked,

"What happened?"

By this point, I was fighting the tears but I could feel them mingling with the rain on my face. I couldn't go into the full story now but I had to find a way to make him understand why I was there. I looked him straight in the eye as I said,

"He got away and I didn't care. I almost died and all I could think about was you. I just want you."

There it was. I'd said my piece. I could see the care and concern in his eyes so I tried to kiss him again. He leant away slightly but I then placed my fingers to his lips and, as the lightning flashed and the thunder rolled, his expression changed and I had a very brief moment to realise that what I now saw was shear desire and want before he was pushing me back against the door and crashing his lips onto mine. From that second, he was everywhere, hands, lips, kissing, caressing and my ability to think was gone; I was just along for the ride and what a ride it was!

He didn't slow down until he started placing kisses down my chest. He suddenly stopped, stared for a moment and then unfastened a button on my top. I knew what he was focussed on; this wasn't a man desperate to remove my clothing, to see my breasts; this was a man suddenly seeing proof of my mortality as he gazed at my scar, that small, round, puckered mark right next to my heart. His hand came up to touch it but he hesitated. I was surprised by how much I wanted him to touch it. I needed him to put his hand there because he would feel, not only the scar but also my heart, still beating (very, very quickly, I might add!). The bullet had almost killed me but it hadn't and my beating heart was proof of that.

Castle's hesitation had at least allowed me to catch up with proceedings a little and after making sure I held his hand against the scar, I raised my other hand to his face and our lips met again, this time, though, the kiss was slower, sweeter, more gentle but no less passionate. We held each other's gaze for a moment, and then smiled. I knew the next move was up to me. Castle had shown so much patience with me over the past four years and there was no way he was going to rush me into anything now so I reached down for his hand and led him towards his bedroom.

Once Castle was sure I was on the same page, there was no holding back any more and so began, what was quite simply the best night of my life. The first time, as was inevitable after the years of resisting temptation, was hard and fast but, and this was only to be expected, we discovered that, in the bedroom as in the rest of our partnership, we were totally in sync with each other, a perfect fit.

After, as I lay there in his arms, completely happy and sated, I realised that I needed to tell him everything that had happened earlier in the day. He held me tight, my back to his chest, as I began to relive the events but when I told him of the fight with Maddox, he turned me round and I could see the effect it was having on him. The look of pain in his eyes turned to horror as I got to the part where I was left hanging from the roof.

"I'm so sorry, Kate. I should have been there."

I hadn't expected that. I hadn't expected him to feel guilty. He had no need and I told him just that, kissing him fiercely to try to emphasise the point.

"Anyway, Castle, as far as I was concerned, you were there."

He looked puzzled but I explained how I was sure I'd heard his voice telling me to hold on and how that had given me the strength and determination to keep my grip for the extra few seconds that I needed. When I explained that it had been Ryan who grabbed my hand and hauled me back to safety, he immediately promised that if Kevin ever needed anything at all that was in his power to give, it would be his.

Finally, I told him what had happened after we returned to the precinct, about our suspension and my subsequent resignation. Initially he was shocked but immediately promised that he would fully support whatever decision I made about my future. At that moment, I realised just how good it felt to have someone be there for me, someone who would help me through anything and everything I would have to face and I decided that the time for talking was over.

Round two was a much slower and sweeter event as Castle made a point of searching out all the bumps and bruises I'd acquired on the rooftop and gently giving them his full attention. Once we were finally fully satisfied again, we slept until I was woken by someone kissing his way up my bare back and just like that, it was time for round three.

This time it was full of fun and laughter as we teased each other mercilessly. I admit that I have had sex many times, with quite a few men over the years but for the first time ever, I now understood the difference between having sex and making love. This was making love and it was a revelation. But what delighted me more than anything else was that we were still the same people we'd always been; in spite of the massive change in our relationship, the banter, the teasing, the joking was all still there.

The need for sleep finally caught up with us. I cuddled up to Castle, head on his chest, arm flung over his torso and legs tangled up with his and drifted off, lulled by the steady beat of his heart.

_At this point, Kate decided that she needed a break. She'd been writing on and off for several hours and knew that she had several more to go before she finished the story. Food was becoming a necessity. Although she knew she'd be eating with Castle later, she decided a sandwich right now wouldn't go amiss._

**Anyone who has not yet seen After the Storm should probably stop here. I will post the remaining chapters quickly so those people can skip to the epilogue which does not contain any spoilers from 501.**


	24. 24 Always & After the Storm (Part 4)

**A very big thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favourite & followed this story. This is the penultimate chapter of the diary but there will also be an epilogue.**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 24

Always and After the Storm (Part 4)

_Once the need for food had been addressed, Kate returned to the diary. As she thought back to that night, she grinned and wondered, not for the first time, why the hell they had taken so long to get to this point in their relationship. She couldn't pin point when, exactly, she had fallen in love with Castle but she did know that it had been a long time ago and she was certain that he had been in love just as long. They had both had moments of weakness during that time but in spite of all that, here they were; the time for looking back now over, the future was all that mattered and this new Kate Beckett, this woman whose face wore a permanent, romantic smile, saw that future stretching out into the far distance. Kate shook her head to clear away her daydreams and returned to recording the momentous events of the recent past._

When I woke up the next time, sunlight was streaming through the window, all trace of the previous night's storm now a mere memory. I turned to look at Castle and had to smile. He looked so adorable; face mashed into the pillow, mouth slightly open, snoring gently. He still had one arm possessively over my stomach and I couldn't resist gently stroking his hand. I knew that now I was fully awake, I wouldn't be able to lie there still for much longer, it just wasn't in my nature. I've always been an 'up and at them' type of person in the mornings and despite all the activities last night, this morning was no exception.

I managed to extricate myself from Castle's hold without waking him and looked round for something I could put on to wander through the loft. I opened the closet and settled for a white, button-down which, I discovered, smelled just like Castle, not that I was going round sniffing his clothes, of course. As I went into the kitchen to get myself a glass of water, I had a momentary flash of inspiration. For four years Castle had greeted me most mornings with a coffee; now, with the change in our relationship, I would start by waking him up with coffee. It seemed an appropriate gesture.

I'd spent enough time at the loft over the years to know where everything was kept and also just about how to operate the space-age coffee maker, so it wasn't long before I was making my way back to the bedroom, duly armed with two mugs of steaming coffee. I wasn't quite prepared for the sight that greeted me. Castle was now sitting up, wide awake, with an almost panicked expression on his face which, fortunately morphed into a beaming smile when he saw me. I was curious about this but it didn't take me long to understand,

"So it wasn't a dream."

I'd not been there when he woke up and his first thought was that the night's events hadn't been real. I felt a pang of guilt and wondered just how many nights he'd had dreams about us and if he'd had them as often as I had. But no, this time it had all been absolutely real and we had both loved every minute of it.

He still had his doubts, though or, at least, he needed to be sure that I was fully on board, that I hadn't just turned up in a moment of crisis and would be running off again at the first opportunity. I reassured him as best I could and thankfully, the moment passed and we were back to our normal selves, even joking about what we could do with my enforced free time. Just as we leant in for a kiss which would surely have started round four, the loft door slammed shut and,

"Richard, I'm home!"

It was Martha. Chaos reigned supreme then as, the next thing I knew, Castle had flipped me off the bed and onto the floor. As we jumped to our feet, I braced myself to face his mother whilst near enough naked in his bedroom but Castle had other ideas and ordered me, yes, ordered me to hide in the closet. I was all set to argue my case but it appeared that I really didn't have a great deal of choice in the matter and just made it to the closet when Martha appeared in the room, for some strange reason, extolling Alexis's many fine qualities. How she didn't see me, I can't quite fathom, but if she did, she certainly gave no indication of the fact, but the woman is an actress, so, who knows?

Castle managed to persuade her that he would far rather talk to her with his clothes on rather than wrapped in a bed sheet but as she left the room, Martha managed to drop one more bombshell; it appeared she wasn't alone, Alexis was there, too. While he was getting dressed, we came up with a rough plan to get me out of the loft without being seen. Why the hell I was doing the walk of shame, I'm not quite sure but I suppose I really wasn't yet prepared to deal with Martha and Alexis knowing about our relationship so I had no choice.

Castle went out to try and distract them while I hurriedly put my clothes on and snuck out of the loft. Putting my clothes on in a hurry was not as simple as it sounds; firstly, they were liberally scattered around the bedroom and secondly they were still decidedly damp from the soaking they got as I'd wandered the streets of Manhattan in the middle of a thunder storm. Once I'd at least managed to get my top and jeans on, I picked up my jacket and boots and literally slid across the floor to the door whilst Castle was doing a great job maintaining the two redheads' attention, although it did appear that Alexis was more than a little hung over after her all-night party. Just as I got to the door, I realised I was missing a rather vital item of clothing; I'd left my bra somewhere in the bedroom.

I headed back and could tell that Castle wasn't overly impressed by my antics, though I could easily say that the feeling was entirely mutual. I found the missing piece of attire under the bed and once again tried to make my escape. This time I made it to the door, opened it and went out. As a final gift to Castle, I may have closed the door rather harder than strictly necessary.

I'd been back at my apartment a couple of hours, long enough to have a long shower and deal with my hair which looked decidedly wild after the night's events, when there was a knock at the door. I didn't need to look through the peep hole to know who was there, a very apologetic looking Richard Castle. Now I had calmed down by this point and had realised the hilarity of the situation back at the loft but I couldn't resist playing with him just a little and see what excuses he would come up with. It appeared that, like me, he just wasn't quite ready to deal with anyone knowing about us but, just as we were ready to go for round four again, we were interrupted, again.

This time the knock on my door was from a source I was not expecting, Ryan. I saw a tiny opportunity for a little payback and suggested Castle should hide in my closet which was stupid, really because my closet isn't big enough for a child to hide in let alone a guy the size of Castle, but when I said that I wasn't ready for anyone to know yet, either, that much was true. Castle assured me Ryan would have no idea of our change of status but I wasn't so certain; his mother may have been an actor but I'd seen Castle in action and, frankly, he's not inherited Martha's talents. As it turned out, Ryan was far too distracted to show any real curiosity about Castle's presence and once he'd explained why he was there, all our concern about relationship matters were suddenly of secondary importance.

He'd brought a copy of the photograph, missing from Montgomery's wedding album and wanted to know if I could identify the guy in it. I couldn't but Castle could. Evidently, it was the man who Roy had sent the files to, the man who had made the deal to keep me safe. Maddox had his photograph and if he found him before we did, if he found the files, I would never be safe again. And just like that, there was the rabbit hole opening before me only this time I was determined not to jump in. I wanted none of it. It was supposed to be over; I couldn't go back to it, not now, I had far too much to lose.

Castle, having spent the last year trying to keep me away from it, was now persuading me that I had no choice but to find out who this mysterious stranger was but I had no idea how I was supposed to even start; I wasn't even a cop anymore. My partner, though, is nothing if not persistent. He talked me round, gradually leading me, guiding me and before I knew it, we were there, investigating together again.

By a combination of our efforts and Ryan's work tracing a call made to Castle's phone, we were able to identify the man as one Michael Smith but, when we got to Smith's house, we found him, barely alive and clearly having been tortured. We were too late. Maddox had burned the file; all that remained were the ashes in the fireplace. Smith managed to say something to Castle and we searched through his files, looking for some reference to 86. Castle was certain that Smith was far too smart and careful to only have one copy and that another copy must be hidden elsewhere, 86 being a clue as to where.

I'd pretty much given up, accused Castle of grasping at straws but, although he admitted to grasping at said straws, he said he would continue to do so as long as the alternative meant my life was in danger without him being able to do a thing about it. He certainly knows how to get to a girl! Just as we were running out of time, he found it, a property owned by Smith, 86, Markwell Street.

That building, as it turned out, was gradually being demolished. As we made our way through, trying to find a needle in a haystack, I had to thank Castle for helping me and pushing me forward because I knew that without him, I would have given up. We found that Smith had an office on the fifth floor, 523 but just as we were about to head off there, we heard the familiar sound of a gun being cocked. I turned and there he was, Cole Maddox. He was after the file and we'd just given him the information he needed to find it. I expected a bullet right there and then, but Maddox was obviously under instructions not to kill me until he had the file so he zip-tied our wrists and locked us in a bathroom while he recovered it. We had maybe a couple of minutes before Maddox returned but, try as we might, there was no way to untie our hands and no way out of the bathroom.

We soon heard footsteps approaching. That was it, we were done. We had one final moment to recall the events of the previous night and wonder why on earth we'd waited four years before the door opened and there stood – Esposito. Never had I been so glad to see his face. He gave me a back-up piece but was rather snarky with Castle when he asked if he had yet another gun. I guess he still felt Castle had deserted us in our hour of need. We all headed to 523 and found Maddox opening a floor safe with his back to the door. I finally had the guy at a disadvantage and I wasn't going to waste this opportunity by being careless. His gun was on the floor at his side and he knew we had the upper hand. I told him to slowly reach down and hand me the file but, as he did so, we heard a click and the next thing I knew Esposito shouted a warning and Castle flung me back out the door, protecting me with his body as the whole room was blown to pieces. Evidently, Smith was quite protective of his property.

_Kate found herself shaking as she recalled that latest brush with death. Castle hadn't thought twice about protecting her and she couldn't quite rid herself of the thought that it would have been quite easy for a piece of stray shrapnel to have seriously injured or even killed him. It was now late afternoon and she felt a desperate need for a glass of wine to calm herself down. She thought it would still be a couple of hours at least before Castle arrived so she had time to take a break before writing the final part of the story._


	25. 25 Always & After the Storm (Part 5)

**Thanks for the reviews and all the wonderful support for my first fanfic.**

**Here's the final entry in Kate's diary.**

Chapter 25

Always and After the Storm (Part 5)

_Once Kate had calmed herself, she returned to the couch and the diary. She'd been recording her thoughts for nine months now and she had accepted that Dr. Burke had indeed been correct when he had suggested the idea and that despite her initial doubts in her ability to be truly honest, she had in fact exceeded all her expectations. The diary had been a total success._

_It was now time to complete the final chapter._

We called Ryan to report the explosion and it didn't take long for him to arrive with Gates in tow. We managed to concoct some sort of explanation as to how we happened to be on the scene of an explosion which just happened to kill the man who had thrown me off the roof a mere twenty four hours earlier but, somehow, I don't think she bought it. Hardly surprising, really, it was pretty flimsy! But she had no evidence to the contrary so we were soon on our way back to my place.

Maddox was dead but that just meant they'd send someone else; Coonan, Lockwood, Maddox, it appeared whoever was behind all of this had a never ending supply of highly capable killers at their beck and call.

Ryan called round later. The atmosphere between him and Espo was way beyond cold. It was crystal clear that Esposito blamed him for his suspension, which, I suppose was true but had Ryan not told Gates I would now be dead so I cannot, in anyway, blame him for his actions. The whole mess was my fault and nobody else's but Espo tends to live by the military code which says partners don't squeal to their superiors. I'm sure he'll calm down eventually; I hope to God he does because those two boys are like brothers to me and I hate to see them like this.

What Ryan brought with him were the remains of the file, blown apart by the explosion, in the hope that just maybe we could piece enough together to give us something to go on. The five of us sat round the table trying to put together a million piece, flimsy, paper jigsaw. It was a long shot but it was the only shot we had.

Finally, after five hours of nothing, we got it; an account number; most likely the account number belonging to the person behind all of this; the person behind my mom's murder. Now we just needed to find out who it belonged to. Thanks to the long memories of my team, we were able to log into the Federal Banking Database and then we had it, the name I'd searched for for so long, William H. Bracken, Senator William H. Bracken, the man being groomed for a run at the presidency.

He'd been ADA in New York from 1988 to 1992, which covered the time when the whole thing started. He'd begun collecting the kick-backs and then, as his political star began to rise and realising that none of it could ever get out, people started dying, killed to cover his tracks. I had him. The only problem was, what could I possibly do with the information? I had absolutely no proof.

There was still one person who could help and Ryan got the call to say that Michael Smith was out of surgery and awake. He could provide the testimony we needed but, sadly, when Castle and I went to talk to him, he refused to help, said his debt was to Roy Montgomery not to me and with that comment, the game was over, I had no play left.

Castle persuaded me to have another go at Smith but, just as we headed back into the hospital, we saw the police guard who had been posted outside Smith's room, leaving. He had evidently been given the order to stand down. Castle and I looked at each other and ran back to find nurses and doctors in their well-practised emergency procedures trying to revive Smith. It was to no avail. He was dead. My last hope was gone. I had a target painted on my head and nothing left to protect me. To say I was scared would be putting it very mildly. I had everything to live for now, everything I'd ever wanted but I was about to die.

Back at my apartment, Castle tried to make me feel safe, even offered to take me somewhere, anywhere where I could be safe but as far as I was concerned that place simply didn't exist. The one place I was able to feel safe, at least for that night, was in Castle's arms. He held me there in my living room and later he just held me through the night. As I lay there, a plan began to form and by morning, I knew what I had to do but I had to do it alone. I dressed quietly so as not to wake the man finally sleeping peacefully in my bed, picked up my mother's ring and my gun, took a moment to admire my partner, my partner in life now not just at work, and left, hoping that would not be the last time I would ever see him but if this didn't work I doubted I would live beyond the day.

I'd checked on Bracken's whereabouts before I left my apartment and headed to the Widmark Hotel. Security was tight when I got there but I caught sight of a familiar face among the NYPD personnel, Officer Ann Hastings. I knew she'd been on leave and had probably just been called in for the day so took a chance that she didn't yet know about my suspension. I guess I got lucky because she was happy to let me through the cordon.

I made my way through the crowds to find Bracken. There he was, the smug bastard, holding court, posing for the cameras and shaking hands, smiling as though he was the long-awaited people's saviour. All I could see were the victims he'd left behind and the killers he'd sent, Coonan, Lockwood, Raglan, MacAllister, Montgomery, my mom. I was surprised, actually that I managed to get close enough to slip the cell phone into his pocket but I did. Part one of the plan completed. I headed up to a balcony overlooking the room and made my call from a hotel phone.

"This is Kate Beckett."

I could see, in an instant even from my vantage point, the recognition in his face and the sudden stillness of his body. I needed to speak to him alone, face to face, so I bluffed, suggesting I had information that would ruin his career and that I was willing to use it if he didn't do exactly as I wanted. I had his attention and he agreed to meet me in the hotel kitchen.

This was it, the confrontation I'd waited for the past thirteen years. I wanted him to admit the truth, the truth about all the people he'd had killed to get where he was today; but the bastard hasn't got where he is today as a politician by telling the truth so I wasn't surprised when he spun a tale of what a great guy he is, how he fights for the rights of the little people. Maybe it was the truth but I somehow doubt it; I certainly doubted his sincerity when he claimed that my mom's death was a 'tragedy' and that he was 'deeply sorry' for my loss. Yeah, right.

His words triggered a primal response from me. I could not believe he was trying to justify his actions to me. He claimed that I sounded a little delusional; no Senator, emotional maybe, delusional, no way in hell. My mother had bled to death in an alley because of the man in front of me; she was left to die in a pile of garbage because of him. My voice may have cracked and I may have had tears in my eyes but I had no intention of backing down, not now, not ever.

He called me a disgraced cop, obsessed with my mother's murder, I couldn't argue with that, it was true but then to claim that he was a 'decent man, looking out for the little guy', well, maybe that's who the public sees but that is not who I know Senator William H. Bracken to be; as far as I'm concerned he's simply a murderer. Then, of course, came the threat,

"I won't let you, or anyone else, get in my way."

Too late, Bracken, I'm right here, right in your way.

He thought he had me for a moment but I had one ace up my sleeve. Actually, I didn't but I've always been a decent poker player and I was about to play the most important bluff of my life.

"I have the file."

That got his attention.

"Smith had another copy. 08672241. That's the number of the bank account where you deposited the money orders."

For the first time, I saw fear in his eyes.

"So you're right. It is about who holds the power. Now I could release that file and destroy you but what would that mean for my life expectancy? So here's how it is. The deal that you had with Smith, that's our deal now. And if anything happens to me or anyone that I care about that file goes public. Am I clear?"

I'd put all my cards on the table now. The next move was up to him. He seemed very reluctant to answer but after a little more prompting, I got my deal. I hadn't quite finished, though.

"Whoever it is you think I am, whatever it is you think you know about me, you have no idea what I'm capable of or how far I will go. I am done being afraid. It's your turn now."

With that, I pistol-whipped him across his face. Maybe part of me wanted to kill him but I'm a cop, there was no way I could ever have killed him in cold blood but, oh boy, did that feel good. The blood trickled down his cheek,

"That's going to leave a nasty scar. Every time you see it, think of me."

With that, I turned and left only to walk straight into Ryan, Esposito and Castle and, from the concerned looks on their faces, I'm fairly sure they thought I'd killed the creep. They really should have known me better but they were all very well aware of just how far my mom's case could drag me down, I guess there was always the possibility that it could have pushed me over the edge but I was stronger than that now, thanks to my partner, best friend and now, my lover, Richard Castle.

Just then, Bracken came into sight, looked over at us for a brief moment, then turned and left. I could sense the relief from the boys and assured them that we'd reached an understanding. Esposito was more than a little bemused that I'd actually let the guy walk away after all he'd done to me but I was now prepared to play the long game.

"I'll get justice for her, just not today," quoting back the words Castle had used to me all those months earlier,

"'Til then, I'll get it for others."

Castle, recognising his own words, gave a slight smile but the look in his eyes told me that he was proud of me and that was all the confirmation I needed, I'd done the right thing and I was in the right place. Now it was time to get my job back.

We headed back to the precinct where I met with Gates. Yes, I'd resigned but now I had the answers I'd been searching for, now I was no longer in some sniper's crosshairs, I knew that giving up my job was a huge mistake and I was quite prepared to do whatever was necessary to get my badge back, even beg to Gates if that was what it would take.

As it turned out, begging wasn't really required. She was clearly curious about many aspects of the case before her but I wasn't prepared to enlighten her. As far as Gates was concerned, Michael Smith would remain a mystery but she took me by surprise when she said,

"You're covering for someone and I know who it is."

Now I was worried, just how much did she know and, more importantly, what was she going to do with that knowledge.

"But I don't intend to dig up the past and tarnish Roy Montgomery's reputation."

She clearly knew a lot more than I expected but it was also clear that she was prepared to let at least that aspect of the case, go. She went on to surprise me even more,

"The fact is, I admire your loyalty. I hope you feel that for me someday."

And you know what, after that I may just be a step closer to doing so.

I relaxed a bit then and asked if that meant I could report back for duty but I can't say I was surprised that she answered in the negative. I had to serve out my suspension just like Esposito. Castle was a bit put out by that and as we left the precinct he wondered how I intended to pass the time. My wandering hand soon answered that question but I really should remember to wait until the elevator doors are fully closed before I do things like that in future!

I never believed I could ever be so happy. My mom's case is solved, maybe not exactly as I would wish, but enough for me to finally be able to get on with my life. I have a job I love, most of the time; great friends and colleagues. Above all, I'm in love with the man of my dreams and he loves me right back. We've still got so much to work out but we'll handle it together.

This diary has served its purpose. It forced me to face my feelings, helped me to accept and deal with my flaws but now is the time to put it away. Thanks, Dr. Burke. I may not have liked the idea at the start, but I admit it, you were right.

_With that, Kate took the diary into the bedroom and put it in the back of a drawer. Just as she closed it, there was a familiar knock. She couldn't help the grin that spread across her face as she ran to open it._

"_Hey, Castle."_

"_Hey!"_

_Before he could add anything else, he was suddenly trying to maintain some semblance of dignity and retain his balance as she flung herself at him, burying her face into his chest._

"_Do I take it you missed me, Detective Beckett?" he asked with a broad grin as he lifted her off her feet, carrying her back into the apartment and closing the door behind them._

"_Maybe I did, just a little, Mr Castle. Maybe I did."_

**Well, that's it, folks, the end of Kate's diary but not quite the end of the tale. I intend to add just one more chapter as an epilogue. Hope I can do my idea justice. Thanks for reading.**


	26. 26 Epilogue

**OMG! Just how good was 'Hunt'!**

**Anyway, thanks for the reviews, I so appreciate reading them. Here's the final chapter, the epilogue. I think you may have an idea where this is going but I hope you enjoy it.**

Epilogue

One Year Later

It had been the first anniversary of their relationship earlier that week and they'd planned to celebrate in style but, sadly, murder had intervened; not, of course, an uncommon occurrence but a source of annoyance none the less. Finally, though, they'd made a break through with the case and the suspect was now in custody just leaving Kate with the paperwork to complete before being able to leave for the weekend, a weekend she and Castle now planned to fill with the delayed anniversary celebrations; but Kate was nervous because she knew that what she was about to do would hurt her partner; it would only be a temporary hurt, but it still worried her.

As had become far more common recently, Castle was still at the precinct even though the case was now over and as he approached her desk, she spoke softly to him,

"Castle, can I have a word in the break room just before we leave?" and headed away, knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would be right behind her.

He had immediately detected the worry in her voice and as soon as the door was closed, he asked her what was wrong. Kate paused before finally replying,

"I know we've planned to spend the weekend together but -"

He didn't give her chance to say any more before he interrupted her in a panic,

"Kate, what's wrong? What's the problem? What's going on?"

Kate smiled gently and put a reassuring hand on his arm,

"Nothing's wrong, Castle. Just give me chance to explain, will you, before you totally freak out?"

At that, he calmed down, soothed by the smile, the gentle touch and her words.

"Okay. Sorry. Carry on," he said, pretending to zip his mouth closed, "Shutting up now."

"Thank you. I still have every intention of spending the weekend with you after all we have a lot to celebrate and I know you've got something up your sleeve that you're not telling me about."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Sorry, not talking," he hastily added as he received the familiar Beckett glare.

"Anyway, tonight I'm going back to my place and you're going to spend the night at the loft because I've got something to give you."

"Kate, you're not exactly making a lot of sense here."

He couldn't quite understand what was going on. She obviously had something on her mind and, although from the look on her face, nothing was seriously amiss, he was more than a little puzzled.

Kate took a box out of her bag. It was about the size of a book and had a red ribbon tied round it.

"Here," she said, quickly, "This is for you. Take it home, open it and I think you'll understand."

With that, she quickly checked that no-one was around, gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, walked out of the break room, picked up her coat as she passed her desk and headed to the elevator. Before Castle could even react, she was gone.

Kate hadn't been home very long when she received a text. She had no doubt that it would be from Castle and when she opened it, she let out a huge sigh of relief and smiled,

**I understand.**

She'd known it wouldn't take him long to figure it out.

**I thought you would. I'll come round for breakfast, about 8.30?**

**OK. I'd better go. Looks like I've got a lot of reading to do tonight. See you tomorrow.**

Kate had given Castle her diary. They'd been together a year now and they were stronger than they'd ever been. They'd had their ups and downs but had faced any issues together and with an honesty that she had always doubted she possessed. They'd talked a little about the events of the year after her shooting but had chosen more to concentrate on moving forward rather than looking back. Kate thought the time had now come to lay all her cards on the table and the best way to do that, she felt, was to simply give him the diary to read. Everything was there, her very soul laid bare and she needed him to know it all.

She also realised, however, that, knowing Castle as she did, if she was there when he read it, he'd never finish. The questions would be never ending and much of it would highly emotionally-charged. It was far better that he read it alone and, preferably, at one go, without interruption. She had tried to explain this in the note that she'd enclosed with the diary.

_Hey Castle,_

_I think I'd better explain what this is all about because I know I won't have done a great job so far. As you know, for a long time after my shooting, I was seeing a therapist, Dr. Burke. At my first session with him, I think it took him all of about 5 seconds to realise that I'm not exactly forthcoming when it comes to talking about what's going on in my head. Hell, I don't think he needed all those certificates hanging on his wall to figure that one out! Anyway, at the end of that first session he suggested that, if I found it difficult to talk, to speak out about how I was feeling, that maybe I should try writing it down. He had one rule, I had to be completely honest and I had one rule, no-one would ever see it, not even him. I kept to his rule, everything in the diary is the honest to God truth and, until today, I've kept my rule but they say rules are there to be broken and as it was my rule, I can break it. I want you to read it, Castle. I need you to understand what was going on with me that year. _

_We've spent this last year proving that we can deal with honesty between us. It hasn't always been easy and sometimes I've not come out with the truth as quickly as I should have, but I've always got there in the end. Once you've read this, you'll know everything there is to know about me, Mr. Castle; there will be no more secrets._

_Some of it may be hard for you to read but I think, for the most part, you'll enjoy it. I'm not the writer that you are so you'll have to forgive me if the style isn't the best, but I'm sure you'll get the idea and I'm sure by now, you'll have worked out why I needed you to go home and be alone while you read. If I'd been there, it would take you all weekend to read the damn thing because you wouldn't stop asking questions and I do believe that we may have better things to do with our time but I promise you this, I will honestly answer any and every question you have, you have my word on that._

_Now go on, Castle, start reading and I'll see you tomorrow._

_Yours always,_

_Kate_

Kate couldn't settle. She'd not spent much time at her apartment recently. They seemed to spend most of their time at the loft and it was really only a matter of time before she moved there permanently. She decided that she'd have a clear out in anticipation of having to pack all her stuff. It was funny how the thought didn't scare her anymore. She was actually preparing to move in with Castle and she was completely okay with the idea.

Having filled a few boxes, she decided that maybe she'd give the place a thorough clean but after cleaning the kitchen, which didn't take long because it hadn't really been used in a while and the bathroom which was in much the same condition, she figured that it would probably be a good idea to get an early night.

She lay in bed and spent a couple of hours tossing and turning, in fact doing just about everything but sleeping. She was anxious, restless; she couldn't help constantly wondering where Castle was up to in the diary; what was he thinking about right now? Finally, at a little after one in the morning, her phone alerted her to a text. She knew who it would be. Gates had promised that she would not be called in over the weekend, so it wouldn't be about a body. It was Castle.

**You awake?**

**I am now.**

**Sorry, didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep. See you tomorrow.**

**No, Castle, I wasn't asleep. There seems to be a big, empty space in my bed preventing me from sleeping**

**Want that space filling?**

**That would be nice.**

**Open your door, then.**

At that, Kate leapt out of bed and sprinted to the door. She flung it open and there he was with his phone in one hand, the diary in the other and an enormous grin on his face. She threw herself at him and he managed to hold her in spite of having his hands full. She pulled him in, closed the door and kissed him long and hard. She couldn't believe how much she'd missed him this evening and wasn't afraid to show him that. When they finally broke for air, he said,

"Do I detect a possibility that you've missed me this evening, Miss Beckett?"

"Shut up, Castle! What are you doing here?"

He suddenly became more serious,

"Thank you, Kate. Thank you for trusting me. You have no idea just how much it means to me."

She looked up into his eyes to see tears beginning to fall and lifted her thumb to gently brush them away.

"You deserve to know everything, Castle and now you do."

He smiled again,

"Yes, I do but I just have one question for now; maybe a few more another time, but just one now."

Kate was curious,

"Okay, I did say I'd answer anything. What's the question?"

"Everything in there is absolutely true?"

"Yes, I've said that several times."

"Tell me," as he raised his hand and lightly caressed her cheek, "Just say it, Kate."

For a brief moment, Kate wondered what he was talking about and then it dawned. There was something that she'd repeated time and again in the diary but had yet to say to him. Could she say it now? Was she ready? She had total certainty that the answer was yes, she was ready.

"I love you, Richard Castle and I have for a very long time."

On finally hearing those words, Castle kissed her again with a new passion. His lips and hands were everywhere, reminding Kate of that stormy night one year earlier. Eventually he pulled back, looked deep into her eyes and suddenly grinned,

"Did you say something about a big, empty space in your bed? May I possibly offer my services to fill said space?"

Kate's smile lit up the room as she replied,

"Why, Mr Castle, I think, possibly, you may," and, with that, he reached down for her hand and led her towards her bedroom.

**The End**

**Thanks for reading this. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

**I'm working on a new story and once I'm happy with it, I'll publish it. Hope it won't be too long.**

**Bye for now.**


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